


Cast Him Off One Day

by shutupeccles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Humor, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupeccles/pseuds/shutupeccles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friends notice changes in the way Neville and Draco see each other, so start taking the piss. Some suggest using their attraction to glean information from the opposition. Others warn them to avoid getting involved at all, but temptation proves too much. An emotional alliance forms, only to be strangled by the lies woven to protect it. Will they ever know the truth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cast Him Off One Day

**Author's Note:**

> For draconeville March/Prompt # 10 - Drinking Games

#### Lions

Seamus Finnigan gathered all the non-Slytherin Seventh Years into one compartment of the Hogwarts Express. ‘In memory of Mad-eye Moody I propose we start the school year with a drinking game.’ He handed everyone a flask modelled after Mad-eye’s famous hip-flask. ‘Fill it with whatever you like. The rule is simple: every time Draco Malfoy boasts or uses the phrase “my father” we take a drink.’

‘We’ll be smashed before the Express arrives!’ Lavender Brown declared.

Seamus raised his flask in mock toast. ‘That is precisely the plan.’

‘Trust you to come up with something like this, Finnigan,’ said Parvati Patil. Her twin sister Padme nodded with a smile.

‘Because I’m Irish I suppose,’ Seamus said in a quarrelsome tone.

‘Because you’re a cheeky shit,’ Terry Boot insisted.

Neville grinned at Seamus. The entire compartment followed suit. This was going to be brilliant.

*~~~*

There was widespread disappointment when they made it through the start-of-term feast and breakfast without using their hip flasks once.

‘The poncing git must realise nobody gives a toss about him and his Death Eater daddy now You-Know-Who’s out in the open,’ Sally-Anne Perks whispered to Hannah Abbott during compulsory Muggle Studies. She was mistaken. Hogwarts without Draco Malfoy seeking fame and dominion was like Gryffindor boys’ dorm without Ron and Harry—wrong. Instinct ensured Neville very much gave a toss.

‘ _Silencio!_ ’ shrieked Alecto Carrow. The spell muted Sally-Anne’s voice. ‘Keep your Mudbloody mouth shut while I am teaching.’

Neville’s hand moved to his wand and stayed there throughout the lesson. Sally-Anne and Hannah may have ignored Neville or giggled at his misfortunes before he featured in the Daily Prophet for accompanying Harry to the Department of Mysteries, but he wasn’t about to let this Death Eater hag treat students like Flobberworms.

*~~~*

‘New rule,’ Seamus said as he sat on his bed to remove his socks. ‘Any time Malfoy says something insulting to Neville, we take a swig.’

‘We’ll be blind all year,’ Dean Thomas crowed.

‘Thanks guys, great,’ Neville grumbled.

‘Come on Nev. He’s had it in for you since our first trip on the Express thanks to Trevor jumping up his leg.’ Dean didn’t need to remind him.

‘Nah, I reckon it was Neville jumping on after to get him that did the real damage. How high did Trevor get before Malfoy started screaming?’ Seamus asked with a grin before imitating a flailing eleven year old. “Ah, ah!”

Dean laughed. ‘What was it you said to that Prefect? “I was only trying to get him off!”’ Dean and Seamus laughed harder than the familiar routine warranted. Neville flushed a deeper maroon than the stripes on their Gryffindor ties.

‘Did Ron and Harry take your sense of humour with them?’ Seamus asked Neville.

‘I’ve had six years of Malfoy’s goons keeping score of embarrassing stuff like that. I don’t need our whole class doing it.’

‘Fair enough,’ Seamus apologised. ‘Final amendment to the game: Whenever he asks Crabbe and Goyle if they’re thick or what, how’s that?’ he asked.

‘Why do all your ideas revolve around Draco Malfoy?’ Neville wanted to know. Dean subtly nodded along.

‘Because only two things are certain: Potter’s going to find trouble, and Malfoy’s going to be a dick.’

Dean and Neville chuckled at Seamus’ stern pronouncement. The three friends settled into bed and began bagging out their new ‘professors’. Maybe this year wouldn’t be as horrid as Neville dreaded.

*~~~*

The only classes Gryffindor shared with Slytherin were Dark Arts and Potions. Ravenclaw were with them for Muggle Studies and four other subjects, Hufflepuff for the remaining three. There were no electives and no free periods.

‘None of us are going to pass N.E.W.T.’ Justin Finch-Fletchely complained to Terry Boot as they left Slughorn’s classroom.

‘There won’t be any N.E.W.T. you dimwit,’ Malfoy snapped on his way in. ‘Most of the examiners are dead or in hiding.’

‘How do you know?’ Padme Patil asked.

‘The Dark Lord’s living at Draco’s House,’ Crabbe boasted.

Malfoy glared at him. ‘Imbecile,’ he declared.

There was a bustle as the non-Slytherins around them sipped from their Mad-Eye commemorative flasks.

‘Who they gonna tell Draco, the Ministry?’ Crabbe asked as Draco stared curiously at the commotion.

‘We **are** the Ministry.’ Sophie Roper freed the Slytherin tie from her robes with feigned nonchalance and her finger casually reached for Draco’s wrist.

His eyes met Neville’s as his hand subtly sought refuge in a robe pocket. Then he shoved past Neville to claim the best Potions table.

‘What did Roper mean?’ Dean asked in a whisper as he and Seamus joined Neville at the table furthest from Slughorn’s desk.

‘Is she Malfoy’s bitch?’ Seamus asked with less subtlety.

Neville’s book slipped from his hands and landed on the bench with a slap. Draco turned at the sound, looked up, observed Neville’s pink cheeks, and added his usual sneer as their eyes met again. Neville immediately looked down.

‘Her grandfather was one of the original Death Eaters,’ Neville told Dean and Seamus in a low voice. He’d done a lot of research since Professor Moody turned out to be a Death Eater and knew the elder Bartemius Crouch used all three Unforgiveable Curses on members of Sophie’s family during the hunt for those who tortured Neville’s parents. ‘Gran told me,’ he lied. He didn’t want anyone knowing details of his personal history. It was bad enough that Malfoy knew and whispered Neville’s secrets back to him in Fifth Year, hoping Neville would break and betray the D.A. The comments changed, becoming more personal and intimate like the way Draco grabbed him, until one night they’d made out.

_‘Think this will convince me to talk?’ Neville asked after coming in Draco’s hand._

_‘If not, I’ll have to fuck the information out of you,’ Draco threatened seductively. His lips teased Neville’s, brushing over them lightly until he couldn’t suppress his own climax any longer. Their mouths crushed together before approaching footsteps scared them apart. ‘Nearly distracted me, Gryffindor slut,’ Draco said while drawing his wand and pushing Neville away from the wall._

_‘Whose hand was down whose pants?’ Neville asked in protest._

_Draco said nothing else as he hauled Neville to Umbridge’s office, but his hand slid from Neville’s elbow until their fingers linked. The way Draco restrained him during Umbridge’s interrogation was erotic and they subtly moved against each other. No-one paid them any attention and Draco bit his neck between whispering maliciously arousing drabbles. ‘Can I pull your hair like this while I come in your arse? Would you like that? Fuck you against a window.’_

_Neville hissed ‘Yes’ without moving his lips. Keeping his eyes closed helped control his trouser snake but meant he missed the Bat-Bogey Hex Ginny aimed at Draco. Neville squeezed Draco’s hand before escaping with the others and following Harry to the Ministry._

Nothing had been said or done about it since. Neville chalked it up as another lost opportunity and tried to follow Slughorn’s instructions without burning the school down. The Genesis Potion was best used for separating mixtures and compounds into their original components, but had disastrous effects on processed organic material. Each student was given protective gloves, shoe and robe covers as Sluggy described the time Peter Pettigrew’s leather shoes tried returning to their bovine state while he was still wearing them.

‘The Impervious Charm is applied to every surface of the senior dungeon on a daily basis, as spills occur even at a professional level, so don’t be alarmed. Gregory Goyle, dispose of whatever is in your mouth this instant. Most unhygienic! As I was saying…’ Sluggy waddled throughout the room peering at preparations as he chattered on.

Dean looked sideways at Neville and Seamus’ tragic concoctions and moved his cauldron to Lavender Brown’s table. Seamus complained at this betrayal. Neville let his potion boil dry as he avidly stared at Draco’s back, thinking he would like to dig all ten fingers into it while they...

‘Put that flame out Longbottom,’ Slughorn cried urgently and bounded across the dungeon.

‘Against a window?’ Neville lazily asked his daydream.

Professor and students stared at him as though he’d become Luna Lovegood. All except Draco, who dropped the flask he’d been filling onto the floor. The magically reinforced glass did not shatter but some of the Genesis Potion bounced out on impact. A single splash hit the wad of gum Goyle pressed under the desk and it began to writhe, unnoticed, until it whinnied.

Draco slapped Goyle’s thick head. ‘You dolt! Why didn’t you swallow?’

‘Was that a horse?’ Lavender Brown asked before anyone could remember the drinking game or turn Draco’s question into lewd conjecture. ‘Bubble gum’s made of HORSE?’ She began to retch.

Sophie Roper and Millicent Bulstrode joined in. Slughorn evacuated the classroom to prevent more pupils becoming distressed. The Gryffindor common room was soon full of laughter inducing impressions of Lavender and Roper freaking out, Roper cosying up to Malfoy and his retreat, Malfoy and Goyle, or Malfoy saying the same thing to Roper after hearing he’d gotten her pregnant.

Neville tried not to care that Draco deliberately looked him in the eye, twice, that the cruel sneer left the curiosity in Draco’s eyes untouched, or that his reaction to the mindless window reference meant he also remembered.

Seamus clicked the fingers of both hands directly in front of Neville’s nose. ‘Ay, you inhale cauldron fumes or what?’ he asked as Neville blinked rapidly. ‘Come on, the lanky git called the fat idiot a dolt. It may not be as fun drinkin’ t’ that in here instead of in front of the beggars, but could y’ at least join in? Boot suggested makin’ it each time Malfoy insults anybody but that might make it too obvious.’

‘Obvious is good,’ Dean said in support of this latest adjustment. ‘We can start a betting pool on how long it takes him to figure it out and use the takings to buy something for Susan Bones.’

Lavender and Parvati thought that was a brilliant idea. Neville agreed, but only because Susan deserved a gift from friends at Hogwarts. He couldn’t help thinking this game would further divide the Houses and make it impossible to get into Draco’s pants.

*~~~*

Silver flasks upended in a wave rippling away from the Slytherin table as Malfoy badmouthed several students during dinner. Students in the years below watched their seniors with intense curiosity each time the behaviour was repeated.

‘What’s that about?’ Colin Creevey asked.

‘Seventh Year ritual,’ Parvati replied.

‘None of the previous years have done it.’

‘Ah, but there wasn’t a Slytherin Headmaster then, was there?’ Seamus said with a wink. Lavender giggled so Seamus winked again and added a broad, flirty smile for her benefit. Lavender blushed. Dean nudged Neville.

‘Interesting development,’ Dean murmured. Neville agreed by raising his eyebrows.

Whispering began at the Slytherin table as the routine continued over breakfast and in morning classes. Neville made the contact of his lips against the mouth of the flask as suggestive as possible when curious grey eyes met his. Draco’s gaze narrowed shrewdly during Dark Arts after lunch. He delivered his sharpest Neville insult to date as they left the classroom and followed it with a small, smug smile. The game could be over just as it started to get interesting.

It came to an end a day later when the eight Ravenclaws were treated for alcoholic poisoning after vomiting in herbology, prompting Headmaster Snape to admonish the year group in front of the entire school.

‘Immature, irresponsible, and utterly worthless, adjectives that apply to the students involved as well as their actions. _Accio flasks!_ ’ One eyebrow disappeared beneath his lank, black fringe as twenty four Mad-Eye Moody commemorative hip-flasks landed neatly at his feet. ‘Well, well. Of thirty four senior students, only ten have enough sense to not participate in this frivolity.’ Snape glanced at Crabbe and Goyle. ‘Or perhaps they were deliberately excluded and this _game_ is more sinister than first appears. Seventh Years of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor will serve detention every Saturday afternoon until the instigator comes forward.’

No-one spoke, raised a hand, or stepped away from Seamus.

‘Very well,’ Snape said in a voice colder than a Dementor’s breath and nodded for the Heads of House to issue further punishment as they saw fit. Points were deducted and eloquent reprimands delivered in the privacy of each common room.

‘If this nonsense began with Gryffindor House then heads will roll,’ Professor McGonagall assured them. ‘This form of tribute was more suited to James Potter and Sirius Black than Alastor Moody.’ Seamus was dubbed a hero once she left the room.

*~~~*

Neville whistled as he washed his hands in the senior boys’ bathroom, sucking the sound in instead of blowing it out as a cubicle opened behind him. He could see Draco’s wand aimed at his back thanks to the mirror and spun around.

‘Fun little game that, Longbottom, but a bit clever for you. Did grannie get you a brain for your birthday?’

‘Shame you didn’t get the personality I sent for yours,’ Neville retorted. ‘Aren’t you going to grab me by the hair and jab your wand at my throat?’

‘Distance prevents spells rebounding. Surely the Chosen One taught you that. Or perhaps the DA was more about gang-banging Mudbloods than…’ Draco smoothly deflected Neville’s jinx then delivered a non-verbal hex. Seamus walked in before the duel escalated to curses. Draco and Neville lowered their wands as though they’d been caught exchanging intimate pleasantries rather than harmful spells. Seamus kept his eyes on them, and they on him, as he entered a cubicle and locked the door.

Neville turned back to the running tap. He wasn’t quite willing to break the tension they’d created. Neither was Draco. He pressed against Neville’s back.

‘Get your fat arse out of the way, Big-bottom. I need to wash my hands.’

Neville wiggled a bit to stop his privates being crushed against the sink and looked toward three more basins. Draco caused a crack in two with a negligent wave of his wand. The one adjacent to theirs almost exploded. Neville’s shield charm was strong enough to protect them both from being blinded by ceramic dust.

‘Developed reflexes, too? Someone’s finally living up to their pureblood potential.’ Draco moved his hands under the water while his words tickled past Neville’s ear.

The warmth of Draco’s body against his back was familiar and ignited a number of fantasies normally reserved for night time, or the shower. It didn’t stop Neville glowering at him through their reflections. Their hatefully horny stare was broken by the lavatory flushing behind them and their eyes snapped up to lock onto Seamus.

‘Jay-zuss Christ,’ he declared. ‘Can’t you two stop flirting long enough for a fella to poop in peace? And do y’ have to make such an almighty mess while doing it?’ Seamus exclaimed as he saw the obliterated basin and left without washing his hands.

‘Filthy half-blood,’ Draco muttered. He blew Neville’s reflection a sarcastic kiss and smacked his bum before walking out of the bathroom. Neville took a moment to regain his composure but it wasn’t enough. He ducked back into a cubicle for a wank.

*~~~*

‘You’ve got to have noticed! He couldn’t keep his hands off you at the end of Fifth Year, could he Dean?’ Seamus sought verification of his ‘flirting’ comment while the three remaining Gryffindors lay in their dormitory beds.

‘It’s only b’cause I’m pureblood,’ Neville protested sleepily. ‘Otherwise I’m as hideous as Muggles in his opinion. I can’t stand him either. It’s just… I dunno what it is.’

‘He’d be after information on Harry,’ said Dean.

Seamus only partly agreed. ‘It’s more than that. The more Neville rebels, the more Malfoy wants to get it into him.’

‘Has it in for him, you mean?’ Dean asked.

‘I meant precisely what I said.’

‘It isn’t funny,’ Neville protested.

‘Yeah, it is.’ Seamus didn’t laugh, but Neville could almost hear him grin. ‘You should let him think you’re properly interested, pretend to give him important information, and get him to spy for you instead.’

‘Don’t do it Neville. That would only make you as bad as he is.’

‘No-one’s as bad as that prick.’

‘Then why didn’t he kill Dumbledore?’ Neville asked quietly. It was a greater mystery than Slytherin’s secret chamber. No-one had a clue.

*~~~*

With Hogsmeade trips cancelled, the inter house quidditch matches were the only thing non-Slytherin students had to look forward to, unless their team played against Slytherin.

‘It’d be a different matter if Harry was still our seeker,’ Seamus said the day after Gryffindor were creamed 750-50.

‘Oh please!’ Ginny sat on the floor reading the latest edition of The Quibbler. ‘Last year you were complaining that he only put my relatives and Hermione’s boyfriends on the team.’

‘And your boyfriends,’ Lavender teased from the fireplace. She nudged Dean with a freshly painted toe because he had been dating Ginny while filling in for Katie Bell. Ginny and Dean laughed it off. Last year’s animosities were forgotten now Death Eaters ruled the ministry and Hogwarts.

‘The Slytherins are out training, again!’ Colin Creevey complained from a common room window.

‘Not all of them,’ Seamus said and kicked the bottom of Neville’s shoe. ‘The big show off’s not even on the team.’

‘Eh?’ He’d been drifting off for a nanna-nap. Seamus tilted his head to the window. Neville turned in his chair in time to see a broomstick zoom into the sky like a firework. Instead of exploding when it reached maximum height, the flyer crossed his legs under the broom, let go of the handle, extended both arms level with his shoulders, slowly arched backwards and then brought his knees up to his chest so the broom flipped and streaked toward the ground. ‘Fuck.’ Neville bounded out of the chair and pressed his face against the window pane. ‘Pull up, pull up, pull up!’ he chanted urgently and several people rushed to look.

‘Holy shit, he’s actually as good as he thinks he is!’ Seamus exclaimed as Draco gripped the broom handle, spun on its axis and caused ripples in the grass as he shot back into the sky to do it again.

Dean passed Neville a set of omnoculars. Once he got the zoom right he could see the tension leave Draco’s features as he closed his eyes and let go… In that moment he was completely free. Neville inhaled a heavy lungful of awe and wished he wasn’t such a hopeless flyer. Ginny was the only person still watching by the time Draco finished and Neville turned away to give Dean’s omnoculars back. She wasn’t looking out the window.

‘You’re worth fifty of him, Neville. Until he realises that you should look elsewhere.’

Neville stared at the omnoculars in his hands. He thought about the heated exchange in the boys’ washroom and minor, everyday encounters since term began. ‘Maybe he already has.’ Neville handed the omnoculars to Ginny. She looked at him curiously instead of arguing and suggested heading down to dinner.

* * *

#### Serpents

DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY – STILL RECRUITING

The writing on the Hogwarts wall caused something to writhe like a clutch of salamanders within Draco’s soul. He didn’t want to cross over into enemy territory. They fought for Muggle and Mudblood freedom when witches and wizards were the ones living in captivity. The Dark Lord’s leadership was increasingly questionable but the original principles were sound. Why couldn’t Potter and Longbottom see that? Disenchanted Death Eaters would flock to the pureblood and his Friend Who Lived if they supported the true cause. Draco could not instigate the necessary revolution. He’d alienated both sides in the astronomy tower.

*~~~*

Blaise Zabini’s mother invented the party game during the Seventies. It helped her seduce four wealthy but otherwise ill-fated husbands, including Blaise’s father.

‘There are three central components,’ Blaise explained while pointing to a blank square of parchment, a row of sand timers, and the spinning arrow between them. ‘We place our right index finger on a timer and the game enters our names around the spinner before choosing whose turn it is. There is no set order. Players are completely at its mercy. Instructions appear on the parchment. The spinner points to the person who will help you fulfil that task. If it points to your name when it’s your turn then you do it alone. Each timer allows between one and six minutes per turn. An alcoholic drink appears on top of a timer when that player’s turn is over. If you succeed in following the instructions or answer any questions put to you honestly, the drink tastes nice. Fail or lie, and the drink will taste foul.’

‘How complicated are these instructions?’ Millicent Bulstrode asked.

‘Between one and six words.’

Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe immediately agreed to play. The five Slytherin girls stared at Theodore Nott and Draco, as though using the Imperius curse to make them join in.

‘Nott?’ Blaise asked. ‘Malfoy won’t play unless you do and the girls won’t play without him.’

Draco’s finger immediately found a timer before Nott said no, which he would. Nott always avoided schoolyard politics and capers and Draco would prefer if he didn’t play. Merlin only knew which female banshee Theodore would end up snogging—or worse, knowing Mrs Zabini. Draco’s ego carried a bruise from trying to kiss Nott after the Yule Ball. Blaise knew about Draco’s crush but not that he acted on it. Crabbe, Goyle, and the Slytherin girls were oblivious to Draco’s preference—his male associates because they were thick, the witches because they were too busy fighting each other to get into his or Nott’s pureblood pants. Luckily this meant the Longbottom obsession escaped their notice.

The first few turns were innocent frivolity. Draco’s Dark Mark began to tingle just as Sophie and Daphne were swapping blouses.

‘Where are you going?’ Pansy, Sophie and Blaise asked as he stood abruptly.

‘Duty calls.’ He showed them the darkening brand on his forearm. Parkinson just about creamed her pleated skirt. He didn’t bother telling them it was only Snape calling. It burned like a dying phoenix when the Dark Lord summoned him. Alecto and Amycus Carrow were also heading to the headmaster’s office. Draco couldn’t stand either of them. Instead of teaching students how to overthrow Muggles in her Muggle Studies lessons, Alecto spent all her time bitching about them. Some of her insults were amusing but Draco would prefer a practical approach. He already knew half of what Amycus taught in Dark Arts, thanks to Aunt Bella. Draco had given up any remaining hope that Crabbe and Goyle would develop a brain between them after meeting the Carrows. Knowing the moronic siblings were branded as he was made the Dark Mark far less honourable.

Snape spoke as soon as the school-based Death Eaters arrived. ‘A furore at the ministry offices has been attributed to Potter and friends. A number of Muggleborns and half-bloods have escaped directly under Dolores Umbridge’s powdered nose. Granger was followed to number twelve Grimmauld Place, from which she immediately apparated. Bellatrix and Narcissa have been assigned to interrogate the house-elf, Kreacher, as the property once belonged to their blood-traitor cousin. Kreacher has yet to be found. It is possible, although highly unlikely, that Potter will seek refuge with another school acquaintance. Should he arrive at Hogwarts,’ Snape paused, ‘he is to be **detained only**. The pleasure of killing him is reserved for the Dark Lord. Disobedience in this matter will incur _Unforgivable_ consequences. That is all.’

Draco wasted no time returning to the dorm, if only to avoid being drawn into conversation with the Carrows. Nott didn’t bother closing his book as enquiring eyes turned Draco’s way.

‘Potter’s been spotted. We’ve been instructed to stun or body-bind if he shows his specky face.’

‘Then what?’ Goyle asked.

‘Then He’ll come, won’t he?’ Pansy asked with breathy reverence.

Draco doubted she’d be so enthusiastic if she’d ever met the abomination. Being Slytherin’s final heir didn’t erase the paternal mud from its veins. Nott knew because his grandfather went to school with the boy who became Lord Voldemort. Perhaps Nott had been laying bait to see what Draco would do with the supposed confidence. He couldn’t trust anyone or reveal that he did not trust them, so he immediately joined the game that was still in progress. ‘Whose turn is it?’

‘But…’ Pansy wanted to speculate about things Draco would rather ignore for now.

‘I’m not going to sit around waiting for Potter to make a scene when I could be getting pissed.’ He shrugged casually as the game board decided who to embarrass next. ‘Where’d Bulstrode and Crabbe go?’

Pansy and Daphne chortled into their hands. ‘Mil’s task was to finger herself for five minutes, Vincent’s was to lick her out for three, so they’re in the girls’ dorm combining the two,’ Pansy explained with devilish glee. ‘They’re probably fucking by now.’

Draco shuddered. ‘If this game spins up something that horrifying for me I’m transfiguring Zabini’s penis into a zucchini.’

‘Wand at the ready,’ Nott murmured as the timer beneath Blaise’s finger began to glow and the spinner pointed to Draco’s name. Draco laughed in Nott’s direction until the word kiss appeared on the parchment square. Nott raised an eyebrow in teasing amusement and Draco once more lamented his staunchly hetero habits. If Theodore returned his earlier interest then even this rebellious version of Longbottom would have remained a non-entity.

‘Let’s get this over with. How long do we have to snog before being blessed with alcohol?’

‘Doesn’t look like long,’ Daphne said as she leaned down to examine Blaise’s timer. ‘But it doesn’t begin counting down until you actually start.’

‘Ooh, my turn!’ Sophie said.

Blaise didn’t bother leading Draco far. They sat on the end of his bed with the curtains drawn. Blaise asked if they could stop yet after brief lip contact. Daphne called out to keep going. ‘We’ll let you know when to stop.’

‘You better,’ Blaise called back.

Draco soon discovered he didn’t mean it. Not if the way his mouth moved against Draco’s was a reliable indicator. It was surprisingly nice, being kissed with gently increasing enthusiasm. He and Longbottom pretty much ravaged each other in Fifth Year. Longbottom showed no hesitation when coming to the Weasley tart’s defence. His reaction had been instinctive and he’d quickly turned to defend himself when Draco joined the fray. They’d begun to duel properly, closing in on each other and then... Longbottom responded instead of pushing Draco away as expected, moaning _yes_ and bringing them even closer when Draco touched him. Immediately after, in Umbridge’s office, surrounded by potential witnesses, they’d pretty much agreed to fuck.

Those memories combined with present actions saw the two friends soon wrapped around each other to exchange urgent, open-mouthed kisses.

‘Time’s up!’ One of the girls declared before Blaise and Draco began humping against each other.

Blaise kissed him once more. Draco pretended not to see the question in his expression and hurried off the bed. Crabbe and Bulstrode were still in the girls’ dorm. Goyle had just finished giving Parkinson a series of hickies. Blaise sombrely picked up his alcoholic drink as it appeared. The timer beneath Draco’s finger began to glow.

 _Answer one question from…_ The spinning arrow pointed to Daphne Greengrass. Her eyes narrowed rather meanly as she pondered her single question. He expected it to be about why he refused to kill Albus Dumbledore.

‘Who were you thinking of while making out with Blaise?’

‘What?’ Goyle asked, showing intelligence for the second time in his life.

‘Is that seriously the most pressing thought on your mind?’ Draco asked. Sophie and Pansy clearly thought it was also more important to know who Draco got off on rather than anything of actual significance. Blaise subtly glowered at Nott. Nott subtly ignored him. Draco decided to make the truth sound like a farcical lie. ‘Neville Longbottom,’ he replied with sarcastic aplomb then swallowed his drink in one shot. He grimaced and pretended to gag because it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. ‘Merlin's arsehole, is that bubotubor pus?’

Nott chortled in gentle counterpoint to the raucous laughter of their fellow senior Slytherins before Slughorn came upstairs to put an end to it.

*~~~*

Slytherin and Hufflepuff were kept back in Transfiguration because Vincent Crabbe decided to be a git. His attempt to transform McGonagall’s hat into a meat eating plant did not work and the old bat was as unimpressed by the sloppy spellwork as the attempt on her life.

‘Own up so we can get out of here,’ Draco muttered angrily.

‘Don’t listen to Malfoy, Crabbe. He can’t be trusted after that polyjuice stuff,’ Goyle grumbled bitterly.

‘Independent thought, from you? The world truly is coming to an end.’ Draco’s droll delivery earned half a smile from Nott that would have meant everything a year ago. Now Draco’s pants were filled with thoughts of that loser Longbottom.

‘It was Crabbe, Professor!’ Pansy Parkinson called out in an effort to gain Nott, Malfoy or Zabini’s respect. She clearly had no idea that Goyle was the only pureblood Slytherin who wanted her.

McGonagall finally let the Seventh Years go so her next class could begin. Draco lagged back to avoid Parkinson and Roper and found himself in the doorway with Longbottom. They just stood and stared for a moment before turning enough to sidle past each other but even that was enough to make breathing difficult. Draco tried emptying his mind in preparation for the next lesson but the thought of shamelessly grabbing Longbottom and doing him against the doorjamb made concentrating on anything else impossible.

*~~~*

Theodore Nott looked up from his novel once Crabbe and Goyle left the dorm then dropped the book and scooted to the end of his bed to address Draco. ‘Now the intelligence level of the room has risen above mountain troll, would you mind explaining the enormous air-boner between you and the blood traitor?’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if those apes were behind it.’ Blaise nodded toward the door. ‘They aren’t precisely subtle at plotting against you. Whatever the cause, you should take full advantage of it.’

Draco and Theodore stared at Blaise. ‘What possible advantage can there be in having Longbottom lust after you?’ Theodore asked.

‘None, unless the Dark Lord visits your home on weekends and you’d like to do more than apologise for your family’s most recent mistake. Cosy up to Gryffindor’s buffoon in the occasional corridor and I guarantee he’ll tell you anything for an opportunity to get even closer.’

‘Blaise thinks he knows because his mother is the empress of manipulative sex. In this instance he’s wrong. Longbottom may lust after you, but he detests you all the same.’

‘He’s becoming more Draco’s type as the year goes by: notorious, influential, pureblood, dangerous, male. Add looks and Malfoy would probably be in love.’

‘Shove off Zabini. I can’t stand the Gryffindor toad.’

‘Who can? He’s got fewer friends than you.’

Draco felt the insult behind Blaise’s statement but pretended not to. He sat on the edge of his bed, facing Nott as Theodore continued to issue warnings. ‘Longbottom’s no longer the timid fool we all know and despised. Don’t underestimate him as an enemy.’

‘Draco’s noticed. Haven’t you seen the admiration in his groin at the blood traitor’s open defiance?’

Nott gazed blankly at Zabini. ‘We’ve already established that they’re hot for each other, thank you Blaise. Now we’re trying to solve that problem.’ While Nott didn’t speak as coldly to Draco, his tone remained far from friendly or affectionate. Theodore didn’t have close friends at school either, although his solitude was a choice he made in First Year and Draco’s was increasingly enforced. ‘Perhaps you should get off with one of those witches in your fan-club before they realise why you’re happy to flirt but constantly refuse serious advances. You can’t afford to lose their loyalty as well. Or try Blaise, he’ll do you in a heartbeat. It would probably be over that quickly, too.’

Blaise left the room without retaliating. Playing that drinking game of his mother’s proved he was attracted to Draco. There was no point arguing or denying it. That didn’t mean he had to listen to subsequent ridicule.

‘Longbottom and I hate each other. What’s the harm in one hard fuck to get it out of my system and leaving it at that?’ Draco asked Nott.

‘Because then he will have you properly by the balls. Also, Crabbe and Goyle will never come back to heel if you mess around with Neville Longbottom. May as well find a Mudblood! He’s figured out you’re nothing but a bully with legendary aspirations, knows you want him, and isn’t fighting for individual glory. Any information he did give you would be compromised. He will never be persuaded to join our side. …Or are you considering an alliance?’

‘Indeed I am, Theodore. We’re calling it Muggle-Lovers United. There’s a quidditch team and everything. You can be a member too, for thirty galleons. That’s why there’s no Weasleys.’

Nott smiled.

‘Why Longbottom of all people?’ Draco asked irritably.

‘That’s a question not even the Department of Mysteries can answer.’

*~~~*

This thing with Longbottom made less sense as the term progressed.

‘Integrity,’ Theodore theorised over pudding. ‘You have none. It stands to reason that you covet ours. Mystery solved.’

‘Thank you for that terse summation, Professor Nott.’

‘Sarcasm will get you nowhere.’

Draco had learned that everything he thought would get him anywhere was leading him straight to nowhere. The only direction available to him was down, which was why he spent any spare sunlit time soaring to extreme heights on his broom, plummeting to earth, so completely at liberty he never knew if he was going to aim for the sky again until the last moment. It was tempting to go splat. If he didn’t love the feel of travelling through the air at high speeds, relying on nothing but an enchanted piece of wood and his own wits, he’d forget everything else he loved about being alive. In the end only one thing kept him aloft—the thought of his mother’s despair if he didn’t. Being married to a Death Eater and believing in the importance of blood purity did not automatically make her a Death Eater, too. Mother had been devastated to the point of uncharacteristic wrath when Draco accepted the invitation to join their ranks, although she never showed anything but pride to his face. He remembered her arguing with Bellatrix over his recruitment and the reason for it.

_“My son is my reason for living, Bella. May as well carve out my beating heart and feed it to that wretched snake. If you will not help me protect him then I shall find someone who will.”_

*~~~*

He wandered the corridors late at night, usually to the astronomy tower but never reaching the top. Sometimes Snape intercepted him or hovered in the shadows. On the rarest of occasions, they talked.

‘I’m not up to anything this year. You don’t have to follow me.’

‘When Narcissa made me promise to protect you with an Unbreakable Vow, she did not specify from whom.’

‘Meaning history proves I’m mostly in danger from myself.’

‘Neither you nor Longbottom are as foolish nor cowardly as others believe.’

‘Don’t you start,’ Draco muttered sharply.

Snape repeated concealing charms as he slithered closer. ‘You are disappointed because this war is no longer the righteous struggle it should be. The Dark Lord allows many in his council to indulge petty grievances at the expense of their betters.’

‘Stop pandering to my ego, Headmaster.’

‘When Narcissa sought my assistance she deliberately placed herself between you and the Dark Lord.’ Snape paused to ensure Draco knew where his loyalties should lie. ‘Bellatrix has yet to use this information against her sister. I doubt she understands why.’

‘And you think I do?’

‘I believe you understand precisely what is at stake for the magical community whether the Dark Lord succeeds or fails. You see what older, jaded eyes refuse to recognise. Crabbe and Goyle are fools. They can only see what is smothered in cream cheese and dangled at the end of their noses.’

Draco laughed briefly, bluntly. He was equally ignorant little more than a year ago.

‘The difference, Draco, is that you have learned what the Dark Mark represents. Entering one form of slavery cannot free us from another.’

‘Treason,’ Draco declared. Snape could not be the ally he pretended to be.

‘Not treason, Draco – truth.’

‘Stop trying to trap me, encourage me to agree so you can tell the Dark Lord what a worm I am.’

‘My life would be forfeit beyond breaking the vow to protect you. Narcissa is more dangerous and vicious than Bellatrix.’ Snape smiled at Draco’s snort of disbelief. ‘Why is it you attend Hogwarts when Lucius would prefer you received magical instruction at Durmstrang? Why has your failure to kill Dumbledore gone unpunished? The Dark Lord makes you torture other Death Eaters who have failed him, or mentions Andromeda and Lupin to humiliate your family, but _will not harm you directly._ He fears the wrath of a devoted mother more than he feared Dumbledore.’

Draco repeated the centuries old adage. ‘The wand that rocks the cradle is the wand that rules the world.’

‘Indeed. Narcissa Malfoy is a formidable empress. Unfortunately, her loud and obnoxious sibling gets all the attention.’

Draco laughed. ‘I still don’t trust you,’ he insisted.

‘Because you are not a fool,’ Snape replied.

Draco remained unconvinced.

* * *

#### Lion and Serpent

Neville paused on the astronomy tower stairs. Malfoy was there again. Either he’d forgotten his concealment charms or felt he didn’t need them. Pale hands were pressed to a windowpane. He stared through it like a lost child waiting for a long-absent parent to come and take him home. Everything about it was sadly beautiful.

Neville wondered what Draco was thinking while he completed his rounds, looking out for Death Eater activity as well as searching for students out of bed and ushering them back to their dorms before Filch or the Death Eaters found them. Before Neville’s shift ended he realised something had changed.

He no longer hated Draco Malfoy.

*~~~*

‘From now on, that route’s mine.’

‘In case your boyfriend’s there?’ Seamus teased. Lavender’s smile echoed this sentiment.

‘Which of us is Malfoy more likely to hand over to the Carrows?’ Neville pointed to Lavender, Seamus and then Dean. ‘Pureblood, half-blood or Muggle-born?’

‘It won’t be Mudblood me,’ Dean insisted. ‘I’m leaving before Umbridge puts me on her register and takes my wand away.’

‘Where’re you going,’ demanded Seamus, ‘and who with? You can’t avoid them Snatchers on your own.’

‘Ted Tonks has said any Muggle-borns in the DA can hide with him. It’s all arranged.’

‘Listen to Neville talking like he’s M and Dean’s James Bond!’ Seamus exclaimed.

Dean grinned at Seamus. Neville and Lavender looked to each other for an explanation and shrugged. It must be a Muggle thing.

‘He can’t stay here Seamus.’ Lavender offered her hand and Seamus accepted it.

‘How much worse can this get?’ Seamus asked his friends. Lavender huddled against him and began to sob.

*~~~*

Dark Arts swiftly became Draco’s least favourite subject. Who could have predicted a time when he’d hate being brought forward in class because he was best in year? Amycus Carrow commanded him to demonstrate the Cruciatus curse on a random Gryffindor – except the victim chosen was anything but random. Draco kept his eyes on Longbottom and raised his wand.

‘ _Crucio!_ ’

Amycus became a screaming bundle of pain on the floor. Draco withdrew the curse.

‘Sorry Professor. Since there’s no glory in hunting unguarded flobberworms I assumed you were going to demonstrate how to block it first.’

Amycus hastened to his feet and pointed his wand at Draco’s throat in a threatening manner. Draco kept his fraudulent smile of apology in place. Several Death Eaters had seen his mother hex Fenrir Greyback for joking about having ‘a little nibble’ on Draco for the Christmas holiday. Acidic boils formed on sensitive areas of the werewolf’s body, corroding several layers of skin as each popped. It was rumoured that the Dark Lord refused access to an antidote until one of Greyback’s nuts fell out. Draco’s smile became genuine at the thought. The alleged teacher stepped back, fear clear in his eyes.

The Slytherin witches fawned all over Draco the moment class was dismissed. Crabbe and Goyle stepped back into line behind him. Finnigan and Brown seconded the Patil twin’s opinion that he was a demented prick due for a kharmic kick in the arse. Nott and Zabini gave him a week of hell over showing off while chivalrously protecting Longbottom but Draco didn’t care about any of that.

The terse, solemn nod of acknowledgement from the intended victim was all that mattered.

*~~~*

There he was, standing by the largest window of the astronomy tower, alone. Neville approached silently, carefully wrapped both arms around Draco’s waist, and softly said ‘Hello’ while leaning forward to kiss the side of his neck. Draco calmly twisted away.

‘Don’t expect me to jump in fright. I saw your reflection.’

‘You were meant to.’ Neville succeeded in pressing his lips to pale skin and was surprised by the chill.

‘Stop it. I’ll only use, betray and destroy you, anything to be free.’ Draco’s voice was colder than his body.

‘Anything, even helping us?’ Neville asked sombrely. He eased the embrace without breaking it.

‘Haven’t you been paying attention in Dark Arts? I may have been incapable of murder seven months ago but the Dark Lord ensured that’s no longer true.’

‘You had no choice.’

‘There’s always a choice.’ Draco’s rigid posture added extra depth to the words.

‘Good answer.’ And not one Neville expected. ‘But we can’t always see that at the time.’

‘Guide me wise one.’ Draco’s teasing drawl was paired with a glittering smirk.

Neville pinched him. Then they seamlessly fit together. Neville tried to focus on speaking instead of what may be forming between them. It couldn’t be serious. They had years of mutual animosity and a war to get through before that could happen. ‘All I’ve learned after six years in History of Magic is that most people we’re forced to read about didn’t know which choice was the right one until they made the wrong one, so you’re hardly alone.’

Draco stared at Neville’s reflection so intently that Neville looked down and began stepping back. Draco’s hands snapped closed on Neville’s forearms. Neville looked up as Draco turned his head to see him directly.

‘Longbottom,’ he began with trepidation. Neville waited. His heart beat a slow, ominous crescendo as Draco remained silent. Then Draco tilted his head, hesitantly leaned closer… 

*~~~*

... Neville leaned forward, meeting him halfway to complete the kiss.

This was no sensual oral offensive like last time, the first time. It was no placebo. They cautiously sampled each other’s lips, testing for responsiveness before adding pressure. The gradual build up to a full-blown snog left them both bright eyed and breathless. Draco turned in Neville’s arms. His relief was indescribable when Neville brought their lips together again, without hesitation. Hands stayed outside clothing. There was no intentional contact below the waist.

Perfect.

‘What’s going on between us?’ Draco asked. Their noses were still touching. He opened his eyes and saw that Neville’s remained closed.

‘I don’t know,’ Neville admitted.

‘Do you want it to stop?’

Neville opened his eyes as Draco asked. It took three breaths for him to make up his mind. ‘No. Do you?’

‘No.’

They shared a languid parting kiss that was also a promise.

Draco absentmindedly wandered through the castle to the Slytherin dormitory. He got lost more than once. Professor Flitwick found him somewhere and fretted over him, fearing he'd been inflicted with the Imperius curse.

‘No I haven’t,’ Draco snapped, pissed off by the insinuation that he was weak-minded enough to be susceptible. ‘As though you’d care if I had been. You’re more likely to accuse me of casting it and toss me straight into Azkaban. It’s only because Snape’s headmaster that any of you tolerate me in your classes or let me walk through the halls without a massive warning bell around my neck. I know what you all think of me. I’m not stupid. I’m not,’ he normally would have said Longbottom but he couldn’t anymore, ‘Crabbe!’

‘Since you have no reason for being out of bed after curfew you can serve detention as determined by Professor Slughorn. Every student of Hogwarts is under our care, Mr Malfoy, regardless of private opinions. Grindelwald could become headmaster and that would not change.’ Flitwick escorted Draco to Slughorn’s plush office without further debate.

Sluggy was not impressed about being woken up and rather taken aback by the reason. ‘Off to bed Draco. You and I can discuss this in the morning.’ He looked as eager to have that conversation as Draco.

Flitwick spoke quietly to the Slytherin Head of House. Draco overheard very little as he loitered outside the door. Potential, unfocussed, concern, disappointment and relief were standouts. Their voices became clearer as Slughorn walked Flitwick to the door.

‘…much like You-Know-Who in that respect. I had the misfortune of being his potions master, as I’m sure you know by now. The main difference of course is that this one has a heart, cold though it may be.’

‘Perhaps not as cold as we suspected, Horace. Lovesickness can be very similar to the Imperius. I may have been too hasty.’

‘We can only hope. At least he’s not as idiotic with it as James Potter over Lily Evans. Not even his friends thought Lily would…’

Draco lost interest at that point and went to bed.

*~~~*

‘What happened to you?’ Seamus demanded in a whisper as Neville entered their dorm. Any sound seemed loud now they were the only two sleeping here. ‘You should have been back to send Lavender out almost an hour ago.’

‘I needed to think for a bit.’ Neville changed school uniform for pyjamas then sat in the middle of his bed. He blinked and covered his eyes because Seamus turned on the light without warning.

‘Are you alright? Did Malfoy do something to you?’ Seamus asked with concern.

Neville looked at him and hoped his confusion shone through. ‘He warned me off, said he’d do anything to be free, I asked if he’d be willing to spy for us, we talked, then we kissed, and then, I think he asked me out.’

‘Do you think you said yes?’

Neville nodded.

‘Did he agree to turn traitor?’

Neville thought. ‘No. He just kissed me.’ He brought his knees up under his chin and circled his arms around his shins. He felt a smile begin.

‘That good, hey?’ Seamus teased mildly.

The smile flourished as Neville nodded. ‘He’s changing.’

‘For your sake I bloody well hope so.’

‘You should hope so for all our sakes, Seamus. He’s still dangerous.’

‘Jesus Neville, why Malfoy?’ Seamus asked in a tone that bordered on insulting.

‘We don’t know,’ Neville admitted.

Friendly silence was all the support Seamus could offer so he stayed awake until Neville felt ready to get under the blankets and try sleeping.

*~~~*

Draco felt lost. How were things meant to proceed with Longbottom? What did Longbottom expect? Did he understand that Draco meant everything he said last night? He wanted to be more than a series of late night rendezvous but that would put them both in danger.

Blaise asked Draco where his brain was during double history and he was too distracted to give a witty retort. Crabbe’s snore from the next desk provided a good enough answer. No-one bothered prodding him awake until the lesson was over. Nott was heard muttering about the number of classmates who’d be scrubbing toilets like Muggles to earn a living unless they put effort into more than Dark Arts. The Slytherin table was treated to a lecture on the importance of education over lunch. Crabbe and Goyle pegged boiled eggs at Nott’s head to get him to sit down and shut up. He transfigured the projectiles into darts and returned them to their source. Draco cast a shield charm directly in front of their noses.

‘Stop doing their thinking for them, Draco.’

Crabbe and Goyle smirked at this reprimand until Nott added ‘or they’ll remain ignorant for the rest of their lives.’

Draco mentioned the principle of loyalty in his reply. This caused further trouble for his unsettled mind. Did Longbottom expect him to act as a double agent? He hadn’t said he would. That didn’t seem to bother Longbottom, come to think of it. Thinking about it created echoes of physical and emotional sensations. Draco had revealed which species of scum he was and yet Neville accepted his advances, shared his confusion, returned his affection. The contentious connection between them had become something wonderful. Draco swiftly stifled a smile. Being happy when he clearly hadn’t earned it would only make Nott suspicious.

*~~~*

Neville tried not to look or smile in Draco’s direction as their paths crossed during the day. Draco did the same. They almost collided during their nocturnal wanderings.

‘I haven’t been ignoring you.’ Their explanations overlapped so they stopped, clumsily kissed hello and talked quietly as they continued to the scene of their first affectionate kiss. Then they said nothing.

‘Where do we go from here?’ Neville asked.

‘Hell?’ Draco glibly suggested.

‘Well, now that we’ve arrived…’

They chortled shyly at their feet because nothing about this felt real then reached for each other’s hand at the same time. Human warmth confirmed the truth.

Draco spoke first. His voice was a softer than a whisper. ‘I’ll help defend Hogwarts, but I won’t spy.’

‘What do you want in return?’ Neville asked.

Draco’s fingers tightened around Neville’s. ‘Someone I can trust.’

‘Will I do?’

‘Perfectly.’

Approaching footsteps prompted them to flee before they could seal their deal with a kiss.

*~~~*

Draco used a levitation spell to shift Seamus’ potions equipment onto Lavender’s table without interrupting the brewing process as noxious teal smoke plumed from Neville’s cauldron. ‘Join your girlfriend, Finnigan. I refuse to die as a result of Longbottom’s ineptitude.’

Neville followed his angry, sneering lead as Draco started putting Neville’s mess to rights. ‘I’m not taste-testing whatever lethal stuff you’ve concocted Malfoy, so get your evil ferret features out of my face.’

‘Not even NEWT level poisons are as toxic as those fumes you created by accident. At least, I assume it’s accidental and you aren’t attempting to assassinate Professor Slughorn and the senior Slytherins.’

‘My assassination plots don’t involve innocent bystanders.’

‘Those flobberworms you force fed to death in Fifth Year hardly warrant the term _assassination_ , Longbottom. Merlin's unwiped arsehole! How did you let your potion get into this state? Perhaps I should sit here for the rest of the year Professor Slughorn, provide some adult supervision to prevent Longbottom inventing Instant-Death-for-Life-as-we-know-it.’

‘Perhaps you should sit on his face,’ Zabini muttered.

‘Or my lap,’ Neville murmured so only Draco could hear. Draco subtly stepped on his toes.

‘Excellent idea Mr Malfoy,’ Slughorn hooted his approval without hearing the sexual references. ‘Inter-house co-operation, splendid! Can I convince you to accept the added responsibility of private tutorials with Mr Longbottom, say for increased weekend privileges and fifty points for Slytherin?’

‘You’ll have to offer more than that, Professor. The idiot spent five years in the same class as Granger and Potter yet still can’t mix a chocolate milkshake without wreaking havoc.’

‘That’d be an insult if it wasn’t true,’ Seamus chided from beside Lavender. He and Neville pulled friendly faces at each other.

‘Ho-Ho! Meet me in my office for a spot of afternoon tea and we can haggle over your fee. You’d better come along too Longbottom, since your NEWT is as stake.’

Neville tried to look like he hadn’t been handed Draco on a plate. The lesson had been brilliant. Exchanging heartfelt and earnest insults while flirting then being offered regular, sanctioned alone time—could life get better than that? Sitting with Seamus and Lavender at the Gryffindor table for lunch, noting the increasing number of absences and missing their friends, reminded him that once it had been.

*~~~*

Slughorn’s afternoon tea could be considered a reward in itself. The extravagant spread of cakes, iced buns, crumpets, tea, hot chocolate and liqueur sweets reminded Draco of Mother’s Sunday teas before Malfoy Manor became the Dark Lord’s headquarters. All this room needed was a platter of artfully sculpted fruit and warm, friendly chatter. Slughorn tried to provide the latter between making negotiations and setting guidelines for Neville’s remedial lessons.

‘Looks like he’s considering you for the Slug Club,’ Neville said while the professor was busy in his liquor cabinet.

‘What for, wanting to fuck you in potions?’

Neville stared for a moment with blazing eyes then time seemed to leap forward because their tongues were suddenly duelling furiously and they were getting into a more comfortable embrace.

‘O-ho, so that’s how it is,’ Slughorn declared in a surprisingly mild tone. ‘No need to be embarrassed, gentlemen. It happened last time, too. Tensions run high, blood boils, enemies fall into bed together and the threat of discovery feels as oppressive as the war itself.’ He poured the drinks as originally intended then added an extra splash or two to Draco and Neville’s glasses. ‘School rules forbid such fraternisation between students of course but as you are legally both adults, and there are other extenuating circumstances.’ Slughorn peered into the deep amber liquid swirling in the bottom of his glass as though simultaneously searching for a demon and redemption. ‘I see no harm in it. Use at least three-quarters of your allotted tutorial schedule for study, as Longbottom’s brewing skills may indeed get us all killed if there is no improvement. The rest of that time is yours.’ He raised his glass to the potential lovers. ‘The heart wants what the heart wants.’

They swallowed the sweetly burning alcohol as a toast. Neville slapped Draco across the knee with the back of a hand for smirking at his astonished gag reflex.

‘The same rule applies to other parts of the anatomy,’ Slughorn added with gruff resignation and dismissed them with a negligent wave of his hand. ‘Don’t get caught!’ he called the moment before they left his office.

‘Our Thursday tutorial is in twenty minutes. I know the schedule isn’t meant to begin until next week but there’s nothing wrong with getting a head start.’ Draco kept his voice steady and authoritative as possible because this wasn’t going to be an opportunity to make out. He told Longbottom he would help defend Hogwarts and he meant it. Few of the dark and magical creatures recruited by Lord Voldemort would differentiate between students of different houses during an attack. Choosing to fight was one thing, being terrorised in bed by the likes of Fenrir Greyback was another, and no First Year should be defenceless against that kind of monster.

*~~~*

Neville was disappointed when Draco began teaching the moment they entered the dungeon. He sounded too much like Professor Snape until he found his own rhythm.

‘Your shield charm is excellent but your disillusionment needs work so you can sustain it without having to refresh. I’ll have to teach that to Crabbe and Goyle, too. The Dark Lord examines my wand every time I’m summoned.’

‘He doesn’t trust you?’

‘He believes I’m incompetent and the weakest link in his chain around Hogwarts. The fact that I’m here proves him right. Occlumency is something else we’ll have to delve into.’

Neville squirmed under Draco’s scrutiny. ‘You still think I’m thicker than troll’s toenails.’

‘Occlumency is extremely difficult. Practicing is unpleasant and intrusive. We haven’t established the necessary level of trust...’

‘Then why mention it?’ Neville considered heading for the door.

‘Because it will protect your mind if we’re caught or you’re captured,’ Draco replied solemnly. ‘The Dark Lord used Legilimency against me to find the best way to punish my father and then threatened my mother’s life to ensure my compliance. Do you want me poking about in your thoughts?’

Horror replaced Neville’s bone marrow with cold lead. ‘You can do that?’

‘Yes,’ Draco admitted without boasting. ‘Not as well as he can, or my aunt, or Snape. It took months before I could block their access and I’m still not brilliant at shielding specific memories while letting others come forward. I probably couldn’t teach it to anyone.’

‘Humility? I’m not sure you’re actually Draco Malfoy. You look like him.’

‘Was that meant to be an insult or a compliment? Who do you think you’ve been snogging lately?’

‘A fantasy version?’ Neville suggested. ‘To be honest I’ve only been thinking before and after the snogging, not during. Last year we pretty much ignored each other. The year before that we were building up to angry sex against the nearest available flat surface. Now…’ Everything was a mystery. Oddly, Draco’s sneering grimace put Neville’s fears to rest, and he smiled.

‘No, now is not the time to be cute and distracting.’

‘Cute…?’ Neville never expected Draco to find him physically appealing. They made each other horny beyond all recognition but that was attributed solely to boiling tensions and whatever else Slughorn said explained their situation. Draco being a sexy beast probably helped, but Neville was anything but.

‘I suspect Granger made communication on those coins one-way so only she or Potter could boss everyone about?’ Draco shook his head in irritation as Neville nodded. Draco had no idea Neville’s hormones were behaving like blast-ended skrewts. ‘Firstly, I’ll show you the Protean Charm so you can communicate directly with friends and minions instead of sending owls, spray painting messages on walls, or waiting for the Chosen Hero to tell you what to do.’

‘Terry Boot said that’s NEWT level…’

‘You received Exceeds Expectations in charms, didn’t you? And that was with your grandfather’s wand. Now you’ve got your own I expect nothing less than Outstanding results from these tutorials.’

‘How’d you know all that?’

‘Oh please! I know more about you and Potter than either of you do. Death Eaters spend more time discussing you two than their own children.’

A window opened in Neville’s mind and the familiarly bitter breeze from Draco’s jealousy drifted through almost every memory of their confrontations. Draco sought attention where Neville didn’t want to be talked about at all. ‘These lessons—I can disarm, summon, stun, produce a Patronus but not a corporeal one.’

‘What about silencing and stealth related charms?’

‘Getting better but still not perfect, as you pointed out.’

‘There are a few Potter may not have shown you. Did the DA meet during Sixth Year?’

‘That question borders on spying.’

‘There’s no point wasting our private time on spells you already know.’

‘No. We wanted to, most of us, but Harry was too busy spying on you. For a while—I thought the two of you were fucking.’ Neville hadn’t been sure he was more jealous of at the time. Draco’s cringe at the suggestion made him feel smiley and warm inside. His happy relief must have made it to the surface because Draco gave him a quick, reassuring kiss on the cheek before demonstrating the protean charm.

‘Will I need to do that to every coin?’ Neville asked. ‘A lot of members have left school.’

‘No. This next one will let you send the same spell to each. It’s trickier and the only way to test it is by checking someone else’s.’

‘I’m not giving you names.’

‘This is a very one-sided relationship, Longbottom. I’m starting to wonder if I get anything out of it.’

‘Apart from laid?’

Draco’s expression declared the lesson was over. Private time began.

*~~~*

Longbottom’s lips were an incongruous combination of rough and soft as they slid across and between Draco’s. He could feel the maturing strength in Longbottom’s arms as their embraced tightened. The contact was comforting and warm in more than a physical sense. Draco sped up the kiss. Longbottom raised the ante by lifting Draco’s shirt and Draco clenched his fingers around the intruder’s wrist. Breaking the kiss stung his lips and pissed Longbottom off.

‘You’ve had your hand on my cock!’ Longbottom reminded him angrily.

‘Yes, when we hated each other and messing up didn’t matter!’

‘So liking each other is a turn off?’

‘I still want to fuck you, rough and spontaneous, but the first time should be different. I want to cuddle up and sleep with you afterwards – it’s sickening, honestly.’ Draco intended to keep that private but the emotional swell refused to be smothered.

Neville chuckled, bashfully burrowing into the crook of Draco’s shoulder. ‘I envy your friends for knowing this side of you from the start.’

‘Be serious. They’d eat me alive, particularly in this political climate.’ Draco began an all-round retreat.

Longbottom’s rebuttal was a tentative kiss. ‘I want to fuck you more since I’ve gotten to actually know you.’

Draco’s hormones roared like a Hungarian Horntail in pursuit of a Triwizard champion. ‘Get touching then,’ he commanded. Neville obliged with a grin.

*~~~*

Draco was a less patient, more demanding teacher than Harry and he was worse as a pupil. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t it be more like...?” Even while supposedly learning he’d end up teaching. On the upside, he rewarded Neville’s progress with more than the occasional ‘Yeah that’s great, I’m going over there now.’ Draco’s dirty talk was more arousing than his kissing and they’d always end up handling or grinding against each other once he started which is why he bottled it in until the lesson part was over, no matter how horny they both were.

‘I remember the way you’d stare at me while wrapping that tempting mouth of yours around that flask, like a repeated offer to suck me off.’

‘That’s exactly what it was,’ Neville admitted and teasingly sucked at Draco’s neck. Draco grabbed Neville’s bum, pulling him close so they could both feel exactly how hard they were getting.

‘When? Where?’ Draco’s husky voice carried a hint of impending moan. Neville moved his hips so they slid against each other.

‘Why not here?’ They hadn’t made intimate contact outside the dungeon since that ridiculously unguarded snog in Slughorn’s office.

‘Images of Slughorn telling you to get that out of your mouth…’

‘Unhygienic,’ Neville chuckled along before Draco’s fingers launched a lazy sneak attack on Neville’s navel, making him gasp and arch forward. ‘There’s only me and Seamus in our dorm. Practical application of the security charms you’ve taught me so far,’ he suggested. They punctuated each sentence with deceptively light kisses. Neville would have suggested the corridor or stores cupboard before they’d begun seeing each other in a gentler, more romantic light. He wondered if they were beginning to fall in love.

‘Run through a possible plan.’

Spoken like a dedicated soldier. Why couldn’t Draco be fighting on the right side? ‘A disillusionment charm should be enough for me to smuggle you into the common room. Peter Pettigrew got past the security portraits for twelve years so they mustn’t be able to detect body-altering spells.’

‘Everyone calls him Wormtail now, except me. I reckon Scabbers is the perfect name for that fink. Changing sides I understand, but not ratting out your friends and getting them killed. He’s got no sense of loyalty. Plus he’s a boring, creepy tit. In that respect it’s a shame Sirius Black was innocent. By most accounts Black would provide some welcome comic relief.’

‘But then he’d just be one more member of your family You-Know-Who can hang blame on.’

‘You’re starting to think like me.’ Draco broke the established speak-smooch-speak pattern by frowning slightly.

‘Understand you, more like.’

‘Yet you’re still here and rather hard for me,’ Draco teased as he brought their lower halves closer together.

‘That’s why I’m still here—and _incredibly_ hard for you.’ Neville pressed Draco against an empty work bench and helped him sit on the edge. He began touching and slowly kneeling down, feeling Draco’s hands slide up his back, across his shoulders, carefully grasping his hair. The dungeon door opened before Neville’s knees reached the floor.

‘O-ho!’ Slughorn boomed into the steamy silence. ‘None of that in here thank you.’

‘Unhygienic,’ Draco murmured, causing Neville to muffle his laughter against Draco’s thigh.

‘You’ve had access to the prefect’s bathroom, Draco. Take him there. The acoustics…’ Slughorn cleared his throat.

‘Were you a naughty school boy, Sir?’ Draco quipped while helping Neville to his feet.

Slughorn’s instruction to pack away their equipment prompted more boyish chortling so he gruffly ordered them off to dinner while assessing the contents of the cooling cauldron. ‘Hm. Much better, ten house points each.’

*~~~*

Neville knew more and learned faster than Draco expected. His measures were more accurate now he wasn’t terrified of his instructor and could keep his hands steady. He wasn’t rushing to get out, or make out, so no longer missed entire chunks of instructions. There’d soon be no need for these tutorials if Draco wasn’t careful. Longbottom would never reach NEWT standard but he should achieve a passing OWL grade.

He wasn’t stupid enough to let Draco hear the password needed to enter Gryffindor tower, either, using the muffling charm Draco learned from Snape in Fifth Year.

‘Want to get the lecture on trust over first?’ Neville asked once they reached his dorm room, unable to see Draco’s proud grin until he’d lifted the disillusionment charm. ‘Oh.’ He smiled back.

‘Which one’s yours?’ Draco asked.

Neville pointed to the only bed directly beneath a window. ‘Um,’ he hesitated with his hands sliding nervously into the back pocket of his jeans.

‘We can just sit. Just because I’m here doesn’t mean we have to jump straight to it.’ That’d be nice, but for now Draco happily savoured the unfamiliar glow of being trusted in another wizard’s room. ‘Tell you what, Longbottom. Demonstrate the area concealments and imperturbable charms.’ He shuffled backward into the centre of Neville’s bed to watch him apply complex security measures to the curtained perimeter with confidence. Not a single gesture or syllable needed correcting. Draco was stupidly proud of his student and… boyfriend?

The thought made him more nervous than Longbottom had been. Neither looked the other in the eye as Neville sat on the edge of his own bed. Draco made room. Neville edged closer, then closer still as they began to talk. Then they began to kiss, and touch. It felt different doing these familiar activities lying down, more serious somehow. Their hands were up each other’s untucked shirts and down the back of each other’s trousers when their eyes met between breaths. The mutually grave stare answered the boyfriend question. Draco didn’t want to go beyond this point with anyone else. They fell in at the deep end, kissing, moving and removing their shirts with vibrant urgency. They touched each other’s bared chests with lips and fingers, tongues and palms, exposing themselves lower still as their tongues met. Draco had no qualms lying on his back and clamping Neville’s head against his shoulder as they humped against each other. His partner grunted and groaned just as eagerly. Genital friction began to burn until an orgasm provided lubrication. They could have come at the same time or one directly after the other. It was impossible to tell. Everything stopped apart from involuntary actions of pulse and breathing.

‘What,’ Neville’s voice was muffled by his mouth’s proximity to Draco’s neck and so dry he coughed slightly, swallowed, and tried again. Draco felt all of it. ‘Um, what happens now?’

‘Clean up and go I guess.’

‘Right.’

‘Stop the kicked puppy act. If I knew what to say or do without ruining what just happened then I’d be hanging around.’

‘Draco,’ Neville began with overwhelming trepidation.

Draco was unable to conjure a suitable quip or hold his wand steady. Tissues would have to do. ‘What?’

‘I don’t know where Harry is. I haven’t heard from him all year. So if you’re after information…’

‘I’m after you, you moron, but only because you aren’t actually a moron.’

‘Sorry. It’s just.’

‘My friends think that’s the only reason we should be together, too. Nott thought you’d have better taste.’ This should be a happy moment. Why did politics and suspicion have to ruin every aspect of their lives? ‘Cheer up Longbottom. We’ll make this work somehow.’

‘Another time, will you stay?’

‘To be honest I’d rather stay now, and every night until the end of term, at least. Except, you know, Finnigan’s a destructive twat who hates my guts.’

‘That’s only funny because it’s true.’

Draco caressed Neville’s smile with the pad of his thumb and then his lips. ‘See you across the hall at breakfast.’ He opened the crimson bed-curtains, scaring Seamus Finnigan into a corner in the process.

‘Jay-zuss H Christ! How long have you been here? What’ve you done with Neville? Did you kill him, or what?’

Draco saved time explaining by opening the drapes further. Neville was taking off a shirt rather than putting it on. He looked up at Draco. ‘You noticed we’ve got the wrong...’ He saw Finnigan. He blushed.

Draco loosened his tie again and tucked it into the collar of what must be Neville’s shirt, removed the shirt without unfastening the buttons, handed it to the rightful owner and accepted his own. He leaned in to kiss Neville’s cheek while doing up the buttons. ‘You’re lovely,’ he whispered sincerely, kissed his boyfriend on the mouth, disguised himself with a disillusionment charm, and left Neville to explain things to Finnigan.

*~~~*

Seamus ripped into Neville right away. ‘You brought him in here, of all places? Why not just host a tea party for Death Eaters in the common room? We can serve First Years to Greyback.’

Neville assured Seamus that Draco didn’t know the password and never would. ‘We can’t go to his room.’

‘What did he say to you, just then? Tryin’ to convince y’ to kill y’ half-blood roommate in my sleep, I bet.’

Neville avoided his friend’s eye while mumbling the truth.

‘Eh? What was that? It’s true, isn’t it? He’s turning you to the dark side.’

‘He said I’m lovely, alright?!’

‘What, like you’re a girl?’ Seamus asked in oddly gleeful confusion.

‘Like I’m his boyfriend.’ Neville said it and he was still as shocked as Seamus. Then a grin of smug satisfaction seeped to the surface.

‘He shouldn’t be sayin’ mushy stuff like that, it’s not natural. The boy-lovin’ doesn’t bother me,’ Seamus hastened to assure Neville. ‘But Malfoy’s barely human.’

‘The important bits are,’ Neville said as he threw his pillow at Seamus.

Seamus caught it with an exaggerated grimace and tossed it back with a cheeky grin. They leapt about the room dodging and hurling every pillow in the room until they flopped onto Dean and Ron’s beds to get their breath back.

‘So it was worth missin’ dinner then?’ Seamus asked once they calmed down.

Neville had forgotten all about food, so it must’ve been. He nodded a little nervously. What if Draco felt otherwise?

‘If it turns out that slimeball’s using you, I’ll turn his nut-sack inside out.’ There was a solid weight behind Seamus’ casual tone.

‘The mark of a true friend, thank you Seamus.’

‘No worries Neville. I know you’d do the same to Lavender’s tits for me. On that note,’ Seamus forced himself to sit up, ‘it’s time for a wank in the shower before lights out.’

Neville knew he needed a shower too, without the wank. He told Seamus about Slughorn’s prefect bathroom recommendation on the way.

‘Are you sure Malfoy’s not got him under Imperius Curse?’ Seamus asked while opening the main door to the Gryffindor boys’ shower.

‘Then why let him interrupt? We’d already discussed doing it up here before starting down there. Would you give up a blow-job for…?’

‘Not for any reason,’ Seamus interrupted. ‘And I’d rather not visualise you two goin’ at it while I’m sudsy and naked, thanks all the same.’

‘I’d rather not picture you sudsy and naked.’

‘You sure? I kinda dance like this while puttin’ on the soap.’ A First Year walked out of the cubicle directly behind Seamus’ rather sluttish gyration. Neville laughed at the boy’s horrified expression and then laughed harder at Seamus’ red-faced mortification as he sought refuge in the nearest empty cubicle.

Best Day Ever.

*~~~*

They argued, occasionally to the point of letting hexes fly along with insults, but on the whole they spent more time exchanging knowledge, conversation, and spit. Clandestine meetings to make each other come became more common and Draco brought Neville to the Slytherin dorm during the Slytherin-Hufflepuff quidditch match. Longbottom was far less comfortable in this environment than Draco had been in the Gryffindor rooms.

‘It’s a bit gloomy,’ Neville said as he looked around. ‘No wonder you Slytherins are a miserable lot.’

‘I didn’t insult your tower’s charity shop décor so leave my dungeon alone.’

‘Alright, I’ll explore your tower instead.’

‘Are you starting in on the dirty talk now?’

Neville nodded suggestively. Draco edged back toward his bed. Watching Neville prowl after him was definitely a turn on. ‘You never finished that blowjob Slughorn interrupted. In fact, you never properly started it. I’m beginning to doubt I mean anything to you, Longbottom.’ Draco didn’t mean that last bit. Their connection was becoming stronger, deeper, and more important to them both. Saying differently ensured Neville remained willing to prove it.

Draco slid back toward his pillow and Neville crawled after him with their mouths joined the entire time. They’d _practiced_ a slowing jinx on both teams’ brooms during breakfast which would hopefully buy them some decent time alone. Arousal was pretty much instant these days. Draco fell onto his back as Neville opened the zipper of his casual trousers and freed Draco’s cock from his underwear. Draco growled with anticipation. Neville growled back and lowered his head, licked. Draco’s entire body jumped. Neville slid his lips and tongue from tip to balls and up again, slowly parting his lips around Draco’s head and then—Bliss. Humid and snug, the roughness of his tongue and palate contrasted with the smooth lining of his cheeks. His lips were curled over his teeth but Draco could still feel them move, rolling slightly as Neville began moving down and up. He watched. It was far better than a warm wet hand in the bath or shower. Draco want to urge him further down, beg for more, grab his head and fuck him. After a while the damp, dribbling, slide was still pleasurable but became less satisfying. Draco kneaded Neville’s shoulders with both hands and gently raised his hips.

‘Suck it,’ he demanded in a hoarse whisper. ‘Try. Make me come.’ Neville tried. ‘Yes, like that. More.’ That was much better. It was bringing him close. ‘Harder, suck it har…yes, oh yes, about to…’

The dorm door opened. ‘What the fuck?’ Crabbe demanded. The other Seventh Year Slytherins were behind him, witches included.

Everybody froze. Neville’s mouth was half-way down Draco’s cock and his wide, wild eyes made Draco laugh. The resulting body movement made them both moan. Draco aimed an open hand at the bed-curtains and closed them with a nonverbal spell so they could come in private, hopefully before his spurting dick fell out of Neville’s gaping mouth. He clutched Neville’s hair with both hands as Neville continued pulling him off and humping his leg. Draco came with a grunt and felt Neville’s spunk seeping through both layers of trousers. It was too late to help. The usual glow of accomplishment didn’t last long because Neville sat on the corner of Draco’s bed, kind of curled into his own lap and shooting terrified glances at the closed curtains. This behaviour was a regression to First Year Longbottom. Draco didn’t like it.

‘I would’ve Accioed your cock into my hand but it might have come off in the other way, and it’s worthless without the rest of you.’

Neville nodded blankly at Draco’s lame attempt at humorous reassurance.

‘We’ve been here less than twenty minutes. There should have been plenty of time. This wasn’t deliberate, I swear. Neville,’ Draco said his name softly to seek forgiveness.

‘They can hear us.’

Draco forgot about that. ‘Let them. If I hadn’t been a prick to you from day one then I wouldn’t have to grovel. You’d trust me.’ The only pleasant part of Draco’s life was constantly being ruined by his past and other people’s expectations. Privately accepting he loved Neville didn’t mean he was entitled to say it. He let his voice carry this anger beyond the curtain. ‘Plus I won’t have to yell out the consequences should they threaten you.’

Neville’s bravery returned and he reached for Draco’s hand. Draco kept their fingers linked together as he stood and opened the curtains. They were alone in the room.

‘Don’t relax yet, Longbottom. They may simply be in the common room spreading the news.’

‘Disillusion?’ Neville suggested.

‘No. Sometimes it’s more effective to boldly pretend you belong somewhere you obviously don’t.’ Draco did this everywhere he went after failing to kill Dumbledore. After all, he didn’t belong at Hogwarts or among the Dark Lord’s Death Eaters—or with Neville. Neville squeezed Draco’s hand and looked him sternly in the eye, sharing his strength. Draco nodded in appreciation and they left the sanctuary of his bed. ‘How’s a person supposed to get laid in this school?’ Draco declared as they entered the common room, hands clasped together. ‘The arrival of you cock-blockers before lunch better mean a Slytherin victory!’ Silent stares were the only reply. ‘You’ve all seen Longbottom before. He’s been cluttering up the hallways longer than most of you. What matters is quidditch. Why is it over so Merlin-damned early, and who won?’

‘Astoria caught the snitch in the first five minutes.’ At least Nott remained capable of speech.

‘I think someone enchanted it, since it flew up my robes and I had to pull it out before it reached my skirt.’ The younger, modest Greengrass sister seemed embarrassed as well as angry.

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. Draco hit their trousers with a restrictive jinx. ‘Perverts.’ That stopped them sniggering. They sneered at him instead.

‘They weren’t the ones getting sucked off by a Gryffindor blood-traitor,’ Blaise announced Draco’s indiscretion. Judging by the reactions, the news hadn’t been spread yet.

‘So? Longbottom had my consent to suck me off, didn’t you Neville?’ Draco found the smug grin spreading across his boyfriend’s face irresistible. ‘Astoria was almost raped by a golden snitch.’ Draco frowned ponderously and made a weighing gesture with both hands while keeping his fingers linked with Neville’s. ‘Like comparing peaches with pears, really. Come on Neville. Let’s find somewhere private so I can return the favour.’ He led his outwardly amused boyfriend from the dungeon.

‘What’s going to happen now?’ Neville asked before they reached the top of the stairs.

‘Beyond eating a large lunch, I don’t know,’ Draco admitted. Neville suggested having lunch together, outside. Draco agreed. Neville smiled. The impending shit-storm was worth it.

*~~~*

The senior Slytherins listened to Daphne Greengrass read from the latest horror novel her cousin had written. It was a flimsy excuse for the witches to be in the boys’ room when Draco received his dressing down from his fellows. The story itself was mostly feminine romance garbage with a few scary bits, but Daphne was a talented narrator and Draco had difficulty ignoring the dramatic cadence of her voice.

“… as intended, the sliver of Renault’s soul slowly possessed the body of Christina’s young lover. Husband and wife would be permanently reunited once the horcrux relinquish…”

‘What’s a whore crux?’ Goyle asked. ‘Sounds like Parkinson,’ he added to Crabbe and they both snorted.

Daphne began the sentence again with a louder voice. “Husband and wife would be permanently reunited once the horcrux relinquished its treasure. Pierre did not suspect that the ornate watch granted the woman he coveted and the rival he murdered use of his lithe and pleasurable body.”

‘Oh please!’ Draco interrupted harshly. ‘Could you imagine anything more disgusting?’

‘Fucking Longbottom?’ Goyle offered.

‘Yes, ha-ha, highly amusing Goyle,’ Draco scoffed bitterly.

‘This, and your ignorance, is why Draco bears the Dark Mark and you don’t,’ Nott told Goyle without looking up from his transfiguration essay. ‘He accepts the privilege of performing the most dreadful duties and persists in his attempts to mould failure into success. Do you question the Dark Lord’s judgement, Goyle?’

‘The Dark Lord _told_ you to—why didn’t you say?’ Pansy asked as though robbed of opportunities to worship a martyr.

Draco wished Nott hadn’t come to his defence. What he said next almost made up for it. ‘If more than one person in this group knew, the entire House would know and it would get back to Longbottom. He’d hardly betray the Order of the Phoenix without believing Draco’s fixation was genuine.’

‘Enough of Draco’s horror story, let’s get back to Christina and Renault,’ Millicent said to Daphne.

The wizards joined forces to send the witches and their fictional drama into the common room. Draco didn’t trust Nott. He had no reason to lie to Goyle on Draco’s behalf, they weren’t friends. Maybe he wanted to focus on the same thing that caught Draco’s attention rather than the person he’d been caught fooling around with. Draco shot a sneaky body-bind curse at Nott then sidled through his bed-curtains and applied various privacy charms. ‘I’m not going to rape you,’ Draco assured his glowering classmate and allowed him to move again. ‘Horcrux,’ Draco said bluntly.

Theodore’s expression showed dread and disapproval. ‘Or horcruxes,’ he suggested. Draco nodded in solemn agreement. ‘What do you plan to do?’ Nott asked.

‘Find it before Potter does.’

‘Then what?’

‘I haven’t decided yet.’

Nott touched Draco’s elbow. ‘You know what happened in Fourth Year wasn’t personal and we aren’t precisely friends, but we’ve always been allies.’

‘Is that why you lied earlier? Or are you hoping that’s true?’

‘You’re fucking Longbottom because he lets you and you like it. Any information gleaned is incidental, or most likely accidental.’

‘Accidental leaks are less likely to be manufactured.’

‘True.’

‘My plans are my own, along with the punishment if I fail.’

‘Or the glory if you succeed.’

‘Yeah, because I have a history of success and don’t want your input buggering it up.’

Nott didn’t smile. ‘How many masters do you serve, Draco?’

‘None.’

Nott nodded without comment. They truly were allies.

*~~~*

Neville hadn’t understood St Patrick’s Day before sharing a room with Seamus Finnigan. Every year Seamus began what he considered a major holiday by paraphrasing St Patrick’s prayer, which sounded like a litany of gratitude for being alive. Neville couldn’t think of a more appropriate way to start any day in these dark times and asked to recite it with him. Seamus’ brogue thickened with pride. This year he ended the day with jugs of green beer and a hilarious jig through the corridors with a glittering shamrock on his head. Lavender and Parvati performed their own version, complete with phony Irish accents. Neville stopped laughing once he saw Draco leaning against a wall wearing his classic smirk of derision. Predatory grey eyes locked onto Neville’s and issued a challenge. More than Neville’s heartbeat changed pace. He strode toward his boyfriend with undisguised intent. Draco moved away from the wall and simply stood, waiting. Then they pounced into each other’s personal space, waging a familiar battle so recently replaced with conservative affection. Anything beyond their surging pulses and frantic breaths became meaningless noise. The kisses and touches were aggressive and possessive yet somehow liberating. Neville’s comparative bulk crowded Draco back toward the wall. Draco didn’t resist. If he had, Neville would have picked him up, lifted at least one leg to wrap around his waist and carried Draco upstairs to bed.

They came as close to fucking as they could manage in that position while fully clothed. Their rapid climax felt like mutual victory. Cool down kisses signed the peace treaty.

‘I think your friends know we’re a couple,’ Draco murmured in a hush against Neville’s jaw. His arms remained clamped around Neville’s shoulders and back.

Neville turned to peer over his shoulder and saw Ginny, blankly staring from one end of the corridor amid a clutch of goggling Gryffindors with Seamus shrugging at her from the tower stairs. ‘Then you may as well come upstairs and spend the night,’ Neville whispered.

Draco replied with the barest hesitation, ‘Alright.’

The stares of other Gryffindors as Neville brought him through the common room and up to the dormitory were shocked and either insulting or insulted, as though Neville offended them by bringing this snake into their den. Draco walked beside and slightly behind him like a bodyguard instead of a boyfriend. His wand hand twitched and he glared menacingly at the first contentious whisper. There wasn’t a second. Neville wondered if his hormones had led his heart and head astray until they were safely alone—and Draco grinned.

*~~~*

He woke up draped across a solid body. Red and gold curtains meant they weren’t in his bed. Although nothing but kisses and words were exchanged during the night, they each wore one half of the same set of pyjamas. A startled hand came to rest in the small of his bare back.

‘Still here, then?’ the owner of the bed and hand asked. Neville’s voice had that surprisingly sexy dry, morning quality and his arms crossed over Draco to hug him good morning. Draco couldn’t resist snuggling into the protective embrace. He hadn’t slept so soundly in over a year. Odd that he felt safer in the enemy’s lair than his parents’ home.

‘I’m sorry.’ The words were tiny and lighter than a breath but carried a wealth of remorse. Agony laced up and down Draco’s core as the sincere apology mended the fraying tear in his soul. For the first time he was truly glad he’d been unable to kill Professor Dumbledore. He couldn’t imagine living with a divided soul, let alone committing the atrocities required to create horcruxes as he and Nott believed the Dark Lord had done. Draco’s opinion of this war had not changed. Both sides were leading the magical community further astray yet here, in his blood traitor boyfriend’s arms, was the only place Draco did not feel lost. He clung to the warmth and affection offered as Neville held him tighter and kissed his forehead.

Neville cared.

Draco cared about him, the consequences of their individual and combined actions. He wanted Neville to come out of this whole and alive. He needed to love him and be loved in return. The two ambitions were incompatible. It had to be one or the other. Draco made the selfish choice and kissed Neville good morning. He would lie to the Dark Lord when confronted about this relationship. He would tell the same lie to Neville and the world. Nott and Blaise had laid the foundation required to make it believable. Depending on how the wheels of war turned, Neville would either loathe or forgive him. Until then… he kissed his boyfriend again and they said good morning with their hands.

*~~~*

There had been no word from or on Harry since that bother he caused at the Ministry. That was before Christmas. Neville’s nerves wore so thin he had difficulty eating. Draco began sleeping with his Dark Mark arm wrapped around Neville every night so they would both feel it burn. He explained what the different degrees of pain and various movements of the brand indicated, and Neville found its complexity gruesome yet compelling. House elves sat Draco’s school robes and books on Dean’s empty bed each morning. They made no secret of their sleeping habits and let people draw their own conclusions. Everyone assumed they were fucking, most said Draco was spying for the Dark Lord, the minority whispered that he had deserted the Death Eaters and joined the Order of the Phoenix. They were all wrong.

The closest they came to fucking since sharing Neville’s bed was occasionally smoothing the splinters from each other’s morning wood. Body heat and proximity shielded them from the overwhelming spiritual coldness of war. Neville didn’t feel the need to tell Draco he loved him, or to hear it from him. It was evident in the ways they stood together while waiting to get into potions and dark arts. Draco would sometimes stand behind him with both hands in Neville’s hip pockets and smirk smugly at anyone who dared glance their way. Because Neville was taller, he’d stand in back with an arm around Draco’s waist and his chin on Draco’s shoulder while they whispered or even kissed. Corridors and common rooms overflowed with rumours. Draco was accused of everything from being a traitor to using the Imperius Curse. Neville was declared either a gullible or unwilling participant, nothing in between.

‘I keep my friends close and my enemies in my undies,’ he glibly replied to Parvati and Padme Patil’s comments during transfiguration. All the students laughed. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips beneath astonished eyes.

The Seventh Year timetables changed the next morning. Slytherin and Gryffindor no longer shared any classes. Everything else remained the same. Neville didn’t dare ask why.

*~~~*

All four Heads of House met in the Headmaster’s office. The portraits of previous headmasters were unusually silent. Albus Dumbledore’s appeared to be sleeping.

‘It can’t go on,’ Horace Slughorn said to the gathered professors before turning directly to Minerva McGonagall. ‘You’ve basically kidnapped one of my top NEWT students!’

‘Let me assure you Horace, if I knew how the blighter was getting in to my boys dormitory I would put a stop to it! As it stands, kicking Malfoy out will require the severest invasion of Longbottom’s privacy. Put a dragon beside that bed and it would be as secure as Gringotts! Switching class groups and putting an end to those private potions tutorials is all we can do.’ Minerva folded both hands in her lap and brought her lips into a thin line. ‘The more fuss we make attempting to break it up, the more determined they will be to carry on.’ Every professor in the room nodded, including the painted ones.

‘We don’t need a repeat of Black and Lupin,’ Horace added.

‘Sirius?’ Pomona Sprout asked.

‘Regulus,’ Horace replied. ‘You’d remember that one, wouldn’t you Severus?’

Severus remained silent.

‘Sirius and Remus were both in my House. If they’d been carrying on no-one but Potter and Pettigrew would have known about it.’ Minerva explained further. ‘Regulus and Remus were meeting all over the school.’

‘At least they took my advice about the prefect’s bathroom instead of going at it in corridors.’ Horace grumbled. Each professor raised at least one eyebrow. Horace cleared his throat. ‘Like none of you were ever young and rampantly horny for someone from another House.’

More than one portrait coughed guiltily. Severus appeared entertained by Pomona’s blush yet he spoke solemnly.

‘As I recall, interference by staff and other students, particularly Black’s brother, made our point of reference unnecessarily messy. Animosity between Houses reached an historical peak when that relationship dissolved.’ Severus stood and began slowly pacing behind the headmaster’s desk. He paused and placed both hands on the back of the headmaster’s chair. Minerva was still unused to this room belonging to someone other than Albus. ‘Only Malfoy and Longbottom know what they are playing at. Once the game is over, the resultant fallout will be punishment enough.’

That wasn’t good enough for Filius Flitwick. ‘Surely our main concern should be shielding them from such fallout, especially Mr Malfoy.’

‘I agree with Filius,’ Minerva spoke up before he was accused of House prejudice. ‘Neville’s friends will be there in one form or another when this comes to an end. Draco currently has no friends in any House and has already proven susceptible to…’ She trapped the words “Death Eater influence” behind pursed lips.

‘Yes Minerva?’ Snape drawled. ‘Pray, continue.’

‘Draco may or may not be a Death Eater but he is inarguably a student.’ Minerva’s voice rang out. One or two portraits silently applauded her behind Severus Snape’s back.

‘Precisely Minerva,’ Snape said smoothly. ‘Let me assure all of you that I take a personal interest in Draco’s welfare.’ He rounded the headmaster’s chair and sat in it to remind the Heads of Houses that although he was once their student, he now held authority over them. ‘History implies the dalliance will rapidly fade if left alone. Let’s not forget, the parties involved detest each other.’

‘Lily Evans detested Potter,’ Horace pointed out.

‘Enough!’ Snape’s voice cracked like a crystal ball dropped onto a statue’s head. Minerva had been unwilling to accept that this man murdered Albus Dumbledore of his own volition, until now. ‘Leave — them — **alone**. You are dismissed.’

*~~~*

The burn came just as they were about to cross a new line of intimacy. They both muttered about Snape’s cock-blocker instinct as Draco dressed. Neville Disillusioned him and watched the room ripple where he walked.

Seamus rolled over to talk to Neville once the door closed. ‘How long is this going to go on? I can’t sleep properly with that Death Eater in here.’

‘He keeps my nightmares away.’

‘He causes mine.’ Seamus rolled onto his back and folded his arms beneath his head. Neville pulled his pyjama pants up while under the covers before doing the same. He couldn’t do it while Seamus was looking.

‘Everything I’ve shared with the DA this year has come from him. He can’t change sides if we won’t let him.’

‘Do y’ think he will?’ Seamus asked.

‘I hope so,’ Neville admitted. ‘He’s like the needle in a compass, swinging around in search of true north. Sometimes his goals and opinions are way off, which we fight about.’

Seamus scoffed. ‘No-one’s seen you two argue in ages.’

‘So? No-one’s seen him suck me off, doesn’t mean it never happens.’

‘That’s just—you’re not allowed to bring sex stuff into a debate. Winning by default because you’re opposition’s disgusted is a hollow victory, my friend.’

Neville laughed.

‘I miss Dean,’ Seamus said suddenly. ‘Dean, Ron and Harry should be in here every night. Not him.’

‘I know.’ Neville missed them all too. But if they were here, Draco couldn’t be. Neville wouldn’t see the lighter side of his sense of humour, feel his human heart beating, be reassured by his fears, or be able to defend Seamus and the others as effectively. ‘Sorry Seamus, but I need him here. You can sneak Lavender in if you want, just show us the same courtesy and use privacy charms before...’

A pillow hit Neville in the face. The two friends laughed as he sat up to toss it back. Knuckles rapped sharply on the closed door.

‘Are you gentlemen decent?’ Professor McGonagall enquired politely.

‘I am. Neville’s a Slytherin suck…’ Seamus dodged a pillow with a grin and Neville hurriedly put a shirt on.

Their Head of House entered with Draco behind her. ‘Get your belongings Mr Malfoy and return to your dormitory. If I catch you in Gryffindor tower again, both you and Mr Longbottom will be expelled. The male professors seem happy to shrug and say “boys will be boys” but these rules are in place for a reason. We can’t let disciplinary standards slip, now of all times.’

‘Not unless one of the students is named Potter,’ Draco muttered harshly as he hooked an arm behind his books and swept them off Dean’s bed and into a pillowcase.

‘Don’t take that tone with me, young man. Harry and James Potter spent as much time in detention as playing quidditch while they attended Hogwarts.’ Professor McGonagall said sharply as Neville took Draco’s wand from his bedside table and handed it to him.

Their eyes met and fingertips kind of embraced. They almost said it.

‘Sorry Longbottom,’ Draco said instead and headed for the door with McGonagall close behind him.

‘Professor, please. We’re not doing anything,’ Neville pleaded as Draco left the room. McGonagall may have been more inclined to believe him if he didn’t adjust his collar to hide recent bite marks.

‘I’m sorry too, Neville. But rules are rules. What example is this setting for the younger students?’

‘I should think that _House is irrelevant to friendship_ is a bloody good example, and one the Slytherins need to follow more than anyone else,’ Seamus suggested rather heatedly.

Neville was overwhelmed with gratitude for this support when Seamus obviously didn’t approve.

‘Goodnight gentlemen,’ McGonagall said briskly and closed the door behind her.

‘Your pet ferret did have a point, though Neville. Harry got away with murder. If we’d tried any of that we’d have been expelled.’

‘Harry wouldn’t murder anyone.’

‘Unlike your boyfriend.’

‘Shut up Seamus,’ Neville said quietly.

‘No Neville, I don’t think I will. You seem to be forgetting a lot of the evil shit he’s done just because he makes your cock happy. I’m glad he’s gone. You two need to break up so life can become a little less weird.’ Seamus turned his back on Neville before drawing his curtains closed with his wand. ‘Goodnight,’ he said abruptly.

‘Goodnight,’ Neville replied, even though it wasn’t.

*~~~*

Draco did not expect the nightmares to return immediately, believing he’d become strong enough to keep them at bay. Nott was on the far corner of his familiar bed in the Slytherin dorm when he woke up in a shrieking sweat.

‘You forgot the silencing charm you’ve been using for more than a year. I was tempted to body-bind you once you began thrashing around so I could get back to sleep but became caught up in imagining Longbottom coping with all this. Or did he perform the charms for you like a good little house-elf?’

‘He usually gives me a blowjob before bed to keep the boggarts away. If you’d like to take over,’ Draco wiggled his hips suggestively.

Nott ignored the lewd gesture and made the bed-curtains imperturbable. ‘Learn anything?’

‘Potter doesn’t give a toss about any Gryffindor not named Weasley. Finnigan’s more likely to lose faith in the Chosen One than Longbottom. Many outside the DA already have. Potter’s silence is doing his reputation more damage than the Dark Lord’s propaganda. You?’

‘Every book containing so much as the word Horcrux has been removed from Hogwarts, not just the library. They were last in the possession of Professor Albus Dumbledore.’

Draco sat forward. ‘Are you willing to act, or merely research? Because if you’re able to lead students in the proper direction…’ Draco paused, allowing the seed to germinate. ‘Neville is willing to discuss alternatives to Death Eaters and Order of the Phoenix if it results in freedom for wizards and witches. Recruit him and those purebloods who oppose us simply because we’re Slytherin sons of Death Eaters will fall into line.’

‘If the Dark Lord fails,’ Nott said without commitment.

‘If he isn’t what he claims to be…’

‘I know.’

Open sedition was too risky, especially for sons of Death Eaters. The main purpose of this conversation was to sound each other out and solidify the using-Longbottom-for-information alibi. Draco loved the mind-fuck aspect of this war—to a point. He’d rather have his soft-hearted and soft-bodied boyfriend to cuddle.

*~~~*

No Draco beside him as he fell asleep or woke up. No classes together. No reprieve from darkness.

Neville stared out the common room window on a drizzling Saturday morning. Movement near the quidditch pitch caught his eye. A hooded student braved the weather, determined to fly—nutter. Neville summoned his coat, gloves and knitted hat then put them on as he headed for the door. 

Ginny stopped him. ‘I wouldn’t. He’s hardly bothered trying to make contact with you.’

‘It isn’t his idea to stop staying over and one of us has to make the first move.’

‘He probably wants you to chase and crawl after him.’

‘That’s how we do this, Ginny. Hunt each other down. We enjoy it.’ Posturing outside the classrooms had been a form of showing off their captured prey. Neville missed that and hoped Draco did too. He politely pushed Ginny aside and raced outside, at first to watch and then to talk once Draco came to ground.

‘Get in out of the weather, idiot,’ Draco said as he shook rain from his white hair. Neville could do nothing more than stare at how sexily drenched and dishevelled he was. Draco sipped rain from Neville's lips. ‘Miss me?’

Neville answered by folding Draco into his arms and nipping at his neck. Draco moaned and tilted his head back for easier access while grabbing Neville’s bum. Pelvic heat contrasted with cool, damp skin and clothing. They performed a revealing spell to ensure they were alone before ducking into the Ravenclaw stand and peeling away the wet outer layers. Neville knelt above Draco and bent down to kiss him. Their tongues met while hands slid inside dry shirts.

‘What do you get out of this, Longbottom, aside from my snide yet gorgeous mouth around your thick cock?’

‘I came pretty close to having your skinny yet gorgeous **arse** around my…’ Neville grunted when Draco smacked his rump.

‘Seriously,’ Draco insisted.

‘I get to change the way you see me, while finding the best in you. What do you get out of it?’

‘A break from Crabbe and Goyle, oh, and cock,’ Draco teased. Neville dug a knuckle below Draco’s rib to make him squirm and answer honestly. ‘Sanctuary, liberty …and your cock,’ Draco added with a chortle.

Neville touched Draco’s smiling mouth, kissed it, and then gave him the finger. Draco gasped, writhed slightly and dug his fingertips into the back of Neville’s neck as he received another. Neville’s hips moved in time with his wrist so he rubbed against Draco inside and out. ‘You’re so hot, and, snug. I can’t wait to put my dick in you.’ But he had to wait because thinking about it combined with ongoing dick-to-dick friction to make them both come. Sounds of a team preparing for quidditch practice prompted them to clean up and dress in a hurry. ‘Even with your dark, menacing side, you’re the brightest point in my life right now.’

‘Then your life sucks.’

Neville held Draco’s pointed chin so he couldn’t look away. ‘I know what you’re capable of Draco Malfoy, the good and the bad. Don’t underestimate my intelligence or...’ He nearly said affection. Although Draco no longer sought physical or sexual dominion over Neville, he would interpret verbal confirmation of an emotional connection as the weakest form of submission, because Draco was still an arrogant twat.

‘Believe me Longbottom I wouldn’t let you touch me in any manner if I didn’t have some respect for you.’

‘Fifth Year,’ Neville offered as evidence to the contrary.

‘You were already proving to be a rebel. Isn’t it every boy’s dream to either be a nice boy turned bad, or to do one?’

‘I prefer evil ferrets turned less evil and ferrety.’

Draco twisted his leg at the knee to kick Neville’s bum while they crossed the quidditch pitch. ‘You’re a tough one to break, which is another major turn on. Zabini was right—you hit all my kink buttons.’

Neville looked forward to finding all of those.

*~~~*

Minerva had forgotten how horrible the dark circles under Neville and Draco’s eyes had been until they returned. It seemed she’d made a dreadful mistake by separating them. If she hadn’t tripped over Draco during her late night rounds she could have overlooked his presence in Gryffindor tower. In fact, she would not have seen the disillusioned boy at all. What upset Minerva most, however, was that Severus did indeed have Draco’s best interest at heart. She did not know what to make of the man. Was he a cold-blooded killer, or compassionate friend? What convinced Albus that Severus could be trusted, and what made Severus turn against a man who offered nothing but infinite second chances?

It was that last question that prompted Minerva to evict Draco, more than rules against nocturnal fraternisation. Quite frankly she’d been terrified that Draco and Neville could be repeating that pattern, rather than the desperately heated Remus-Regulus affair. They hadn’t broken up and could still be found in the library or around the grounds together, and Minerva knew young people in lust could be inventive when it came to how and where, but something was wrong that had nothing to do with sex.

Dread filled her stomach more effectively than the start of term feast when staff received the list of students staying at Hogwarts for Easter. The Malfoy boy’s name wasn’t on it. He couldn’t go home to that house, not if the rumours were true. Not even if Severus was there. Draco’s classroom behaviour had been perfectly bland of late so none of the true professors could issue detention as an excuse to keep him at Hogwarts.

He looked like a ghost after the breakfast mail told him he’d be going home. Her heart broke for him. It was easy to forget that the nasty little imp was essentially a boy who hoped to be the best at everything when he arrived at Hogwarts. It took until dinner to make up her mind and discuss the matter with Horace. He agreed wholeheartedly, as she knew he would. Horace may be a braggart but he was also a compassionate soul, far too good for Slytherin House. He brought the boy out of the dungeon after lights out as arranged.

‘Mr Malfoy, come with me please,’ Minerva said. ‘Professor Slughorn will send your belongings shortly.’

Draco looked frantically from one professor to the other. ‘Has something happened at home? To Professor Snape? Why isn’t he…?’

‘Calm down, Draco. Nothing terrible has happened and you are not being punished,’ Minerva assured him.

‘Now Draco, although you may be sleeping in Gryffindor tower you remain a Slytherin. Wear the wrong House tie to breakfast again and I shall put you in detention.’ Horace pointed a fat finger in Draco’s narrow face. ‘Off you go.’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Draco asked with suitable suspicion as he followed Minerva upstairs.

‘Because,’ Minerva replied. ‘Would you rather we didn’t?’

‘Is Neville alright?’ Draco asked, making Minerva absurdly proud.

'He will be. Are you?’ Minerva asked sincerely.

‘I will be.’

Minerva directed the Fat Lady’s attention away from the new portrait of a young man in a state of casual undress. ‘Resurrection,’ she said and the portal opened.

‘Longbottom doesn’t let me know the passwords. I can only get out on my own.’

‘I will be changing it once you are upstairs.’ Minerva smiled shrewdly although she was grateful for the information which put one of her fears to rest. Neville wasn't completely blinded by this unlikely affair.

Draco turned after stepping through the portrait. ‘Thank you, Professor.’

Her smile softened. ‘Do not make me regret this.’

He tried to return her smile and Minerva felt a surge of hope.

*~~~*

Neville was startled by weight on what had briefly been Draco’s side of his bed, followed by the whisper of his name.

‘ _Lumos!_ ’ Neville’s wand began to glow before he put a hand to it. Draco perched beside him, paler than before. Neville sat up straight with fear edging toward his bones. ‘How did you get in here?’

‘McGonagall let me in.’

‘Why?’

‘I have to go home for Easter,’ Draco said with something deeper than regret.

Neville interpreted ‘go home’ as ‘confront death’ and leaned over to hug him. After a moment of silently breathing against each other they began kissing intently. Neville helped Draco crawl more comfortably beside him, or more accurately on top of him, as they removed outer layers of clothing and applied the usual protective enchantments around the bed. Neville was able to do them nonverbally now, thanks to Draco. He owed so much to this former enemy and framed Draco’s face with his fingers to kiss him again. He sought consent with his eyes then removed Draco’s underwear with both hands when that consent was wordlessly given. They let eyes, bodies, and the pressure of their lips communicate what words could not. This holiday could mean the end. Not just the beginning of the end but the actual, definite end. He Who Must Not Be Named thrived on grand gestures and theatrics. Draco and Neville thrived on each other. They snuck across this final intimate boundary without fanfare or alarm.

It must have hurt Draco more than they expected, or perhaps Neville didn’t enter him correctly this first time. Still, his grunt and grimace were swiftly replaced by softly guttural, open mouthed breaths. His body relaxed rather than clenched as Neville moved carefully. His facial features became more beautiful than when he flew unfettered and unreserved through the evening air. Neville was tempted to whisper ‘I love you’ but they wouldn’t be doing this if they didn’t love each other, not silently like this. It would be brash and immature, battling for domination and taking what they could get, an act of mutual thievery. This was sharing, and so remained quiet, careful and slow to the end - although they finished with urgent sighs and limbs clamped desperately around each other. They stayed that way long after their joints began going numb in a vain attempt to prevent impending hell intruding upon their heavenly moment.

Neville’s despondency manifested itself in a whisper. ‘Don’t let him kill you.’

Draco didn’t say anything but Neville felt their silent tears mingle.

*~~~*

Each night’s intimacy became more urgent to combat the desolation draping over their days “the same way the Dark Lord’s cloak catches and flows. Just the whisper of that fabric against his pallid form, furniture, or through the air... he’s practically a Dementor.”

Draco’s descriptions painted images to rival the most detailed portrait in Hogwarts. He would pick at the cuff of his right sleeve, the unmarked arm, as he talked in a voice as fragile and hollow as the porcelain eggs on Gran’s dresser. In these private moments Neville knew Seamus was wrong about him, everybody was. Draco Malfoy was entirely human. He fought for the same reason as Neville—he loved his family and friends, even though the majority had turned their backs on him.

‘You can top me tonight instead, if you want,’ Neville whispered hoarsely the night before those going home for Easter were due to leave. Trembling fingers caressed his face.

‘Are you offering because you’re afraid, or because you trust me?’ Draco asked. His thumb lingered over Neville’s lips.

‘Both.’

‘Promise me something. Do everything to defend yourself—except compromise your integrity.’

Neville promised. Draco straddled his hips, in complete control as he rode Neville for possibly the last time. Neville drew all ten fingers down Draco’s throat, tweaked a nipple and a rib, grasped his hips and pounded into him like the world was ending. They caused a cacophony of vocal and bodily sound, shaking the bed like an earthquake was happening underneath it.

‘Just because I know you’re fucking doesn’t mean I want to hear it!’ Seamus hollered.

Draco added the forgotten secrecy charms while Neville apologised, utterly embarrassed. Then Draco wiggled about slowly on Neville’s lap. ‘Look at you, too sweet to be playing with a bad boy.’

Neville arched and gasped beneath Draco, reaching back to clutch the bedhead behind him. ‘There’s a big difference between bad and naughty, Malfoy.’

‘Fuck.’

They did.

*~~~*

Life hadn’t taken Draco where he expected to be when he began school. Instead of sneaking a quickie on the Hogwarts Express with a pureblood Slytherin witch he was kissing Neville Longbottom by the Hogwarts gate. People were watching, commenting, but Draco didn’t think of consequences. He wanted to take the taste and warmth of Neville with him. It wouldn’t block the nightmares while they were apart but it should help produce a patronus if the Dark Lord brought Dementors to the Manor.

‘Don’t let him kill you,’ Neville pleaded in a murmur. ‘Lie, fight, manipulate, be the ultimate Malfoy prick but stay alive. And don’t, don’t kill anyone either. You’re better than that.’

‘No, I’m not.’ Draco’s heart shrivelled like parchment left too close to a fire.

‘Yes you are.’

‘No, Longbottom. I already have.’ His voice cracked on the admission.

‘I know. I’m telling you not to do it again. You told me there’s always a choice, Draco. Choose me over him.’

Draco whispered the truth in Neville’s ear. ‘I already have.’

They kissed again as the gates opened and Flitwick ushered those leaving school grounds into the thestral-drawn carriages.

* * *

#### Lions vs Serpents

Draco would not confirm Potter’s identity unless there were no other options. They needed to have a private chat about possible forms and locations of Tom Riddle’s horcruxes. The self-proclaimed Dark Lord was away and none of his Death Eaters knew where. Draco assumed the worst: Voldemort suspected Potter had discovered a horcrux so was off creating another. If Draco had to show Potter the fading bruises along one hip caused by Neville’s uneven teeth, or describe his boyfriend’s sleep patterns to gain Potter’s trust, then by Merlin's mouldering bones he would. For now all he could do was procrastinate, shrug and turn his back. Potter clearly had no idea why Draco wasn’t aiming Unforgivable Curses at his distorted head. Draco found his confusion amusing but couldn’t enjoy it with all the background noise.

Draco joined Potter in staring at Bellatrix when she shrieked that they would all perish if the Dark Lord was summoned and began obsessing about a sword that had supposedly come from her vault. He watched Potter’s reaction. Could it be a horcrux? Weasley and the Chosen Saint were hauled to the cellar so Bellatrix could entertain herself torturing the Mudblood. Draco had been forbidden to go down there for months but when Father sent him to fetch the goblin he went without question. Watching his aunt use the Cruciatus on Granger brought Neville to mind. He would have been little more than a year old when she tortured his parents using this same spell. Had he been made to watch? Bellatrix called Draco weak for not killing the Snatchers or Dumbledore yet Neville truly believed the inability to commit murder was a sign of strength, so Draco said he would not kill. He couldn’t talk to Potter in front of the goblin and whoever else was stashed down there. Nobody knew of his promise to Longbottom so he could threaten to kill... Was that Lovegood and Thomas behind Weasley? Draco’s day kept getting worse. Father stopped him returning to the cellar to investigate a suspicious noise. Any opportunity for forming a temporary alliance with Potter was lost. The afternoon exploded into chaos before that cruddy house-elf Dobby appeared and took Potter’s lot away, along with Draco’s wand. Bellatrix decided everything was Draco’s fault, especially the presence of Gryffindor’s sword.

‘You’re fucking the Longbottom brat! You gave it to him, didn’t you? That lying thieving goblin wouldn’t have bothered taking a fake!’

‘And how am I supposed to have accessed your vault, you demented banshee?’

Bellatrix was furious and Draco immature enough to perform spontaneous magic without a stick, although their attacks lacked the same impetus. Narcissa ran around them to pick up her wand and put a stop to the duel. Lucius angrily asked which family member his wife intended to support—her insane sister or their blood-traitor buggering son. All four tried to flee the room when the Dark Lord arrived, expecting to see Potter because he had been summoned. He was as irate as the rest of them yet calmly scolded the family for squabbling like children. He was delighted to discover neither Malfoy male currently possessed a wand and immediately attacked Draco for letting Potter escape.

‘After flaunting your flirtation with his rebellious friend in front of my most faithful Death Eaters, did you truly believe I would not anticipate such betrayal? Foolish boy!’

Narcissa intervened, deflecting a curse and standing between the Dark Lord and her son. Her back was to Draco. At worst, his shoulder would bear a deep and jagged scar. Had the curse connected properly he would have lost the limb.

‘So you are not entirely defenceless. Mummy is still willing to come to your aid,’ Voldemort sneered.

Draco was more afraid of his mother at this point because she grasped her wand loosely in order to aim in almost any direction without moving her entire arm. This made it almost impossible for her intended target to anticipate and block an attack.

‘Explain yourself Draco. Today, Longbottom, the sword, all of it—begin with Potter.’ Mother did not divert her gaze from the Dark Lord while issuing her command.

Draco drew strength from her faith in him, although lying to her caused him severe pain. He glared into the red eyes of Tom Marvolo Riddle, bastard half-blood son, and spoke liar to liar. ‘Potter and his friends are always mucking about with polyjuice, invisibility cloaks and other forms of disguise. I couldn’t be certain that ugly lump was him until the stinging jinx wore off. My Lord would hardly wish to be summoned to discover those snatchers brought us a half-blood Irishman, a pureblood witch and my _boyfriend_ disguised as undesirables one, two and three.’ He sneered with exaggerated contempt during the word boyfriend then turned true disdain on his aunt. ‘Learn to control yourself and think before acting. The dimwit I’ve been sleeping with has proven a greater strategist than you.’

‘How **dare** you address me so? Insolent brat!’

‘Silence Bella, I will discipline my son. Tell us about the Longbottom boy. Why have you not mentioned this relationship to us before?’ Narcissa asked as an affronted mother, not a loyal servant. Neither the Dark Lord nor Bellatrix noticed so Draco directed his lies at them. It was less obscene than betraying his mother’s trust.

‘Longbottom had to believe it so he would think he was saving me by betraying Potter. He’s been horny for me and yearning to play hero since Fifth Year. All I had to do was shower him with the attention Potter denied him, make him feel special, and he practically made me a DA member. Potter doesn’t think enough of him to classify him a friend, but Longbottom **always** answers his hero’s call. Now the Chosen Twat’s on the run again I have to **keep** sleeping with Longbottom so I’m first to know when Potter comes looking for him. Thanks Bella,’ Draco sneered. ‘Nott and Zabini think this was their idea but I’d already begun the arduous task of seducing the idiot long before that. Last year another plan took priority.’ He nodded to the Dark Lord with false humility and fervently hoped they believed his performance. Mother did not lower her guard.

‘What of this sword your mother mentioned?’ Voldemort asked so smoothly, his voice flowed like his robes. Draco was not safe yet.

‘The sword of Gryffindor, my Lord, it was brought in with the undesirables. Aunt Bella accused them, and then me, of stealing it from her vault.’

Bellatrix was immediately wrapped in coils of flame and the Dark Lord strode toward her. Nagini slithered along at his heels. Voldemort was abnormally fond of the snake. Draco wondered if the basilisk beneath the school held a place in the Dark Lord’s shrivelled, inhuman heart. He didn’t care what happened to Bellatrix. His aunt had been willing to offer him as a scapegoat to maintain her favour.

Narcissa took advantage of her sister’s punishment. ‘Return to school immediately. Tell your false lover what transpired today. Omit **nothing** that preceded this conversation. I will inform Severus of your imminent arrival. Take this.’

Draco refused her offered wand. ‘I’m not so pathetic as to leave you defenceless.’

Lucius urged him to accept. ‘Gregorovitch and Ollivander can no longer manufacture wands. Despite your faults you have always been an obedient son. You should have trusted us with your scheme so we could behave accordingly.’

‘It will work for you Draco,’ his mother insisted, ‘because it is given willingly. You are always in my heart so it will recognise you. Please.’

Draco hugged his mother and accepted her sacrifice. ‘Call me home the moment you need it back.’

‘Of course darling,’ she lied. ‘Forgive your aunt. Azkaban stole her love for me.’

Draco kissed his mother’s cheek and apparated to Hogsmeade, walking to Hogwarts under a disillusionment charm so he had time alone to think.

*~~~*

Difficulty sleeping quickly became the least of Neville’s worries. He’d seen Draco’s protective gestures as cute but hollow. The way the Carrows and Slytherins came after him in Draco’s absence proved they were more intimidated by his boyfriend than he used to be. Pride in their partnership made Neville more defiant. He hadn’t realised he’d become so influential until Michael Corner was tortured for releasing students from detention. Neville was a pureblood, not a pseudo _almost_ pureblood like the Carrows and Pansy Parkinson, but a 100% trace it back to Merlin's era along both ancestral lines Pure Blood. Death Eaters didn’t dare mess with him the way they did students of lower blood status—until Voldemort no longer wanted him alive and on their side.

Did that mean Draco was dead? Or had Seamus been right and Draco turned Neville over to his vile master?

Neville sought refuge in the Room of Requirement from the latest Carrow attack because he found it impossible to remain alert while figuring things out and his distraction put others at risk. The DA was no kids’ club and this was no game, so he refused to cower and neglect his duties. Unfortunately, Seamus was targeted next in an attempt to lure Neville out of hiding. Neville used his improved skill at protean and disillusion charms to bring Seamus to the hideout.

‘This is brilliant,’ Seamus said as the room added another hammock. ‘And you’ve got food!’

‘Don’t scoff the lot,’ Neville warned as Seamus leapt at his stores. ‘That stuff’s difficult to come by.’ He explained how the room opened a passage to the Hog’s Head just because his tummy rumbled.

‘What, in Hogsmeade?’

Neville nodded.

‘Why not just ask that nutter house-elf that’s in love with Harry? He still works here. Although,’ Seamus said with his mouth still full, ‘Dobby can’t be completely crazy if he reckons your boyfriend’s a scheming git.’

‘Do you think he set me up?’ Neville dreaded the answer.

‘I don’t know. I was starting to believe he was capable of liking you…’

‘Thanks Seamus.’

‘Nothing against **you** Neville, I meant liking anyone other than himself. He looked sick after McGonagall took him away, gettin’ sicker every day like you were until she brought him back. Now you look ill again. Maybe the two of you have been cursed or somethin’. I mean, you didn’t even like each other before and then suddenly, Bam, heart eyes everywhere. We’ve been worried sick about you all year but anytime we say somethin’ y’ just jump to his defence and make us worry even more.’

‘You might prefer your curse theory to the truth Seamus because I like him. Love him, actually. Until recently I was certain he loved me too.’

‘I’d rather believe the Carrows are after you because that’s true, than that he set them on you because it isn’t. Stop pulling that face, I’m tired and you know what I mean. Let’s get to hammock.’ Seamus bounded into the newly added hammock with a boyish grin. They both laughed when it swayed grandly and flipped him off the other side. ‘We should bring all the DA in here, really piss those Death Eaters off,’ Seamus suggested. ‘It’ll be like camp, without having to poo in the woods.’

Sharing a room with Seamus again allowed Neville to unwind a little. The nightmares didn’t subside, however.

‘Your cuddle ferret better hurry back and be one of us good guys because I’m not getting into hammock with you,’ Seamus grumbled sleepily.

Neville was too tired to throw a pillow at him, so stuck out a foot and tipped his hammock instead.

‘Ow,’ Seamus said into the floor and immediately began to doze off. Neville chortled softly before sleep claimed him too.

*~~~*

Snape kept Draco in the headmaster’s office until evening meal. They barely spoke. There was no need. Dread clung to Draco like the Dark Lord’s miasma of robes. He tapped his mother’s wand against a nervously bouncing knee.

‘Narcissa is proud of you Draco.’

Draco shook his head and steadfastly avoided glancing at the portrait of Professor Dumbledore.

‘Yes she is.’ Snape’s voice was deliberately smooth and soothing but it didn’t work.

‘She shouldn’t be.’ Draco ground his teeth to avoid crying like a child. ‘By accepting her wand I left her for dead.’

‘You seek to end your mother’s oppression and restore her reputation, hence you require a wand. Narcissa’s mistakes have not weakened your love for her, or vice versa. Of course she should be proud.’

‘Father…’

Snape made a dismissive gesture. ‘Fathers often have different priorities. As you said Draco, it is the wand that rocks the cradle which rules the world.’

They fell silent once more before Draco stared impersonally into Snape’s eyes. ‘I know what he is.’ He let his disgust ripen and burst through the words.

Snape did not flinch or question. ‘Then Merlin help you.’ He lifted his wand to his temple and something resembling the silvery ghost of a flobberworm latched onto the tip, stretching then wrapping around the wand until he put the substance in a phial. ‘For your protection,’ he explained as he did it again. ‘You are dismissed.’

Draco knew when a performance was called for. ‘Thank you, Sir.’ It wasn’t until he reached the stone gargoyle that he realised Snape spent the majority of his time in that office with the living portrait of a man he’d killed hanging near his shoulder. How did that work? What did they talk about? Was it one repetitive guilt trip, or did Dumbledore continue to forgive, even after death?

He rounded a corner and collided with an invisible person who’d been stealing his aftershave. The collision didn’t hurt enough for it to be Crabbe or Goyle. Mother would put a dab of her cologne on Father’s collar whenever she visited him in Azkaban to revitalise memories of their love. Although their relationship was strained at present, Father attributed his remaining sanity to that gesture. ‘Neville?’ Draco asked softly yet with tremendous hope and lips immediately fastened on to his. He broke the kiss with a laugh. This had to look ridiculous.

‘Fat Lady, after pudding, but only if you missed me,’ Neville said into Draco’s ear.

‘Not even the great Seer Cassandra knows how much.’

Neville chuckled with relief and smacked Draco on the bum before continuing on his way. Draco was suddenly hungry and couldn’t reach the Great Hall fast enough.

*~~~*

It was the first time Neville had been back to the Gryffindor dorms since he began hiding out. They’d never had the room to themselves before. It felt like it was _theirs_ although Neville could not entertain the idea of being together on another Gryffindor’s empty bed. He heard all about who’d been living in Draco’s dungeon, the Potter spotting and escape as they undressed each other on top of their bed. ‘I knew that wasn’t your wand.’

Draco’s hands fell away from Neville’s shoulders.

‘This is me you’re with Draco. Losing your wand in a fight isn’t going to change my opinion of you.’

‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’ Draco began to sit up and turn away. ‘Not while you’re being hunted and my mother…’ More than his voice broke on the unfinished sentence.

‘Tell me.’ Neville crawled closer on his knees to provide a comforting hug. Eventually Draco continued his tale. Then he began to cry. Neville cried with him and felt the need to kiss his own tears from his boyfriend’s back so Draco didn’t become burdened by his grief as well. It must have worked, because Draco’s sobs subsided before evolving into soft, intimate sounds. His hand reached back to rest against Neville’s cheek but he lowered it again with a wince of pain. The scar the Dark Lord had given him may never heal properly. Neville considered delaying this form of reunion for another day or two but Draco twisted carefully within his embrace, protecting the wounded shoulder as his mouth gently sought Neville’s. They proceeded silently, like the first time, and fell asleep clasped tightly together.

Similar nightmares woke them at the same time. They chased the lingering fear away by going at each other with noisy vigour, soaking the sheets with sweat and spunk.

Draco suggested trying occlumency. ‘As romantic as it sounds to be subconsciously sharing each other’s fears, it actually makes us more vulnerable to outside attack.’

‘I have nothing to hide from you. We can begin tomorrow.’

*~~~*

‘Forget it, this isn’t going to work.’ Draco hexed the leg off a chair in frustration. Emotions were too close to the surface before they began. The inability to control and suppress his own thoughts let alone teach Neville to curb his was infuriating. He thought he’d been good at it, never imagining his mind would become so polluted by anger, fear and despair that no outpouring of tears or sex marathon could clear it away.

Neville silently put his shoes on and picked up his wand. He’d obviously caught Draco’s mood.

‘I didn’t mean you weren’t capable of learning. There’s too many distractions.’ Draco tapped his head with two fingers to show he was the problem.

‘Yeah. Sure.’ Neville headed for the dorm door. ‘Same rules as before, you can’t stay here when I’m not.’

Draco considered taking this to break-up proportions and letting Neville be the one to end it as he summoned his jacket from Finnigan’s bed. The gold and maroon bedspread came with it. Neville chuckled and tried the bed-making spell they’d learned in Charms last term. The bed cover jiggled and flopped beside the bed. Draco’s attempt wasn’t much better. He kissed Neville’s grin.

‘You’re the main distraction,’ Draco said before kissing him again. ‘The school Death Eaters are already out to get you. The Dark Lord is less impressed with me than at the end of last year.’

‘It would be safer to break up, is that what you’re saying?’

When it came to it, Draco couldn’t. ‘I’m saying do a better job of keeping us secret.’

Neville nodded. ‘I can live with that. I’ve got to contact Seamus, you need to be a Slytherin, how about we meet at the top of the stairs an hour after lights out tonight and talk things through?’

Draco could not refuse an offer like that.

*~~~*

Conversation became a relationship relic. They talked while they undressed at night, sometimes, and while they dressed again, if they had time. Otherwise their discussions consisted of _Oo-ooh yeah_ , _Come on Come on_ , _Ride me_ and _Fuck, fuck, fuck it, fuck!_

They never said “I love you” or “when we are free” because their occlumency skills were imperfect and therefore impractical. They just fucked. Surely anyone lifting those images from their minds would interpret it as mutual political manipulation, meaningless.

Nothing stopped the cumulative nightmares. They occurred during the day now, while Neville prepared his rebels and Draco played gobstones or whatever he did with the Slytherins who stayed behind for Easter. Despite being on opposite sides of the battleline their only refuge was each other and the intimacies they shared. The war had no place in bed with them.

Umbridge had been right about one thing in Fifth Year—there was no need to talk.

*~~~*

Seamus jumped out of his hammock to angrily accuse Neville of not doing his nightly patrols ‘…since your boyfriend’s back!’

‘I missed that one night when he first returned, which you didn’t complain about at the time. Neither did Lavender so I’m guessing you two were similarly occupied.’

‘Yeah? Well Lavender’s on **our** side.’

‘Considering Draco gave us first-hand knowledge of…’

‘There y’ go again, supportin’ him when…’

Neville clawed the fingertips of one hand into his friend’s shoulder while describing Draco’s wound and how he got it. Then he let go. ‘He’s You-Know-Who’s victim as much as we are, Seamus. His family is ready to disown him and his _master_ ready to kill him for sleeping with **me**. He could have handed Harry over and chucked me in it to save his perfectly proportioned arse, stayed home using the lockdown to avoid fighting but he came back here, to me. Since that one night I’ve managed to perform all my duties, meet with him, and come back to keep this room ours while you and the others are on the move. If my loyalties were split I’d be sleeping with him in here.’

‘It’s a bit awkward in a hammock. I wouldn’t recommend it,’ Seamus quipped by way of apology. ‘The Patils said today’s Potterwatch password is Sorting Hat. Try and stay awake long enough to take notes. Oh, and ask Aberforth for more food. Rumour has it this room’s goin’ to get pretty full after the holidays.’

‘One day to go. How many are we expecting back?’ Neville asked while setting Seamus’ wireless beside his hammock. Not that he’d be likely to get any sleep.

‘About half as many who left, arriving by train anyway. A few of the Seventh Years hope to apparate directly to the Hog’s Head. You might want to mention that to Aberforth when you get the food.’ 

Neville nodded. They glanced at the Whereabout Wall which listed names of family members and friends in three columns labelled missing, dead, and in hiding. Luna and Dean’s names disappeared from _missing_ and three generations of Weasleys magically appeared under _in hiding_ around the same time Draco returned to Hogwarts.

Seamus stood with his head to one side as though he was examining Neville. ‘You haven’t told him about the Whereabout Wall, have you?’

‘No. And he couldn’t know beforehand because it didn’t exist until I’d been here half a day. He doesn’t even know about the room.’

Seamus thought a few things over. ‘Why didn’t he hand Harry over? He hates him more than we hate You-Know-Who.’

Neville admitted he didn’t know.

‘Do y’ think maybe he likes you more than he hates Harry? Loves you like?’

‘We’re just using each other, remember?’

Seamus shook his head. ‘That might have been true before but you’re different now. He has to have noticed.’

‘You’d better get going before Ernie and Lavender think the Carrows have caught you.’ _And you ask how I feel about Draco._

*~~~*

Caught in a world he did not want. Flimsy as a lace hanky from one of those soppy books Parkinson and Roper were constantly sighing over.

_Is this what Azkaban feels like? The moment something bright and happy enters your mind space, a world of oppression and grief collapses in on you, leaving only grisly tissue to be devoured by time or some lesser creature?_

Longbottom’s solid presence could no longer stop Draco being scoured by tidal sands. The nightmares never ceased, overlapping and becoming real, destroying everything. This was the Dark Lord’s world—desolation.

It had to end.

Draco wanted to do it but knew that path belonged to Potter. The rest of the magical community wouldn’t have it any other way. Add that to the list of infuriating circumstances.

Amycus ordered them to practice Unforgiveable curses on students in detention and Draco pictured the Dark Lord in his mind as he raised Mother’s wand. He had an overwhelming need to inflict the kind of pain he was experiencing on others but the results did not soothe him. He needed **his** wand. Mother’s understood him from her perspective and reacted differently, powerful though it was. It would not perform the killing curse, which was good. Draco could blame the wand.

Nott seemed to know. He began sitting closer to Draco in the common room while remaining on his own. It passed as friendship by Nott’s standards.

‘We’re losing, aren’t we,’ Nott said once they were alone in the dorm.

‘Everyone’s losing.’

Nott nodded to indicate that’s what he meant. ‘If only more of us could see that. Zabini’s game is rigged by the way,’ he added as Crabbe and Goyle returned. ‘There are a few random plays but most of it is set up beforehand.’

‘I’ll be in Greengrass’s knickers next time,’ Goyle gloated.

‘If you pay Blaise enough,’ Crabbe countered.

‘If Blaise wants me to fuck him he only needs to ask,’ Draco said while grabbing what he needed for a shower.

‘What about your blood-traitor boyfriend?’ Goyle asked.

‘That’s a disappointing and fat dead end. If Potter hasn’t contacted the dumpling by now, he isn’t going to. Poor Neville.’ The sympathetic inflection was genuine but Crabbe and Goyle mistook it for mockery.

‘I’d love to see his face when he finds out,’ Crabbe chuckled.

‘Not me. It looks too much like yours,’ Draco retorted snidely. Nott laughed, a sure sign that the end was coming.

*~~~*

‘One H word knows about the other,’ Draco told Nott. The clue was cryptic enough to bore their roommates before the conversation began.

‘What tipped him off?’ Nott asked.

‘A book Father loaned him.’

‘Things would be very different if we’d figured it out then.’

‘I doubt it. We don’t have three generations laying tracks.’

‘Our fathers are being watched b’cos Draco let Potter escape and you’re talking to him about trains?’ Goyle asked Theodore.

‘We like trains,’ Nott replied blandly. Draco suppressed a smile while nodding in agreement. They ignored Crabbe and Goyle’s muttering after Slughorn called for lights out.

Draco practiced occlumency while counting the minutes until he could sneak up to Gryffindor tower. He was interrupted when Nott sat on the far corner of his bed and applied complicated privacy charms. ‘Are you going to fight when he comes?’ Nott asked in a whisper despite the hefty security.

Draco nodded. ‘He’ll bring the others. I have to join them to return Mother’s wand.’

‘He’s counting on that and plans to kill you before she gets a hand on it. Then he’ll kill her in front of your father and torture him until he begs for death.’

Like Crouch did to Sophie Roper’s father and grandparents.

‘Was that a warning or a threat?’

‘To-may-toe, to-mar-toe.’

‘So much for allies.’

‘If you live and he dies, yes, we are. If he lives and you die, then we never were.’

‘Sensible.’

Nott briefly clasped Draco’s ankle through the bedclothes. ‘Try not to die. I’m beginning to like you.’ He quickly removed his hand. ‘But not like that.’

‘Guess I won’t be breaking up with my boyfriend tonight after all.’ Draco feigned a disappointed sigh.

‘Please Malfoy, one nightmare at a time.’

*~~~*

Potterwatch brought news of a break in at Gringotts. According to Fred Weasley’s energetic narration _‘the Chosen One elected to flee the scene with typical flair, upon a dragon imprisoned to guard the vault of villainess extraordinaire Bellatrix the Strange and liberated, no doubt, by my impending sister-in-law. It’s enough to make this reporter’s war-hardened heart develop a crush on the lot of them.’_

Cheers filled the imperturbable hideout. Neville’s spirits were still soaring hours later when he left for his regular rendezvous with Draco. They sank deeper than a mermaid's cellar as he waited in vain. He couldn’t neglect patrol after an event like that and was surprised to find Draco sitting cross-legged on the astronomy tower stairs and staring out the large window Neville considered theirs.

Nott stood with his back against the single pane, hands in trouser pockets as he looked down on Draco’s misery. ‘Our parents made the cull.’

‘Barely. Amycus will be out for my blood.’

‘Hand them Longbottom. Surely they can use him to get to Potter now. Unless you shared our theories with him and he can…?’

‘Potter doesn’t give a niffler’s nipple about Neville.’

‘Doesn’t appreciate him as an ally, in the manner you do, or…?’

Draco interrupted him again. ‘To-may-toe, to-mar-toe Theodore.’

‘This is proof that we’re right.’

Draco nodded. ‘As reassuring as that isn’t.’

‘I tried talking to Slughorn while you were gone but you know how much time he has for Death Eater progeny. As McGonagall’s rehabilitation project, would you mind broaching the dread subject with her? We can’t establish a plan without knowing what we’re up against. I’m heading for bed and pretending this conversation, like so many others, never happened. I suggest you do the same.’

Neville waited for Nott to leave then waited some more. Draco rubbed his eyes with the thumb and middle finger of his right hand before preparing to stand. Neville removed his disillusionment charm before stepping forward. ‘Should have known this is where you’d be.’

‘You’re late.’

‘I waited for you, almost to the point of giving up,’ Neville admitted.

‘Sure you weren’t too busy celebrating?’

‘Until I saw you here and remembered there are more than two sides to what’s going on.’

Draco lifted his left sleeve. ‘It’s been like that since he found out. Potter’s got hold of something dangerous. Keep away from it,’ Draco shook his arm so the sleeve fell, ‘and from him.’

‘From Harry? Are you jealous?’ Neville quipped to ward off impending disaster for a little longer.

‘Always have been.’

Neville leaned close. ‘Me too,’ he whispered.

Draco scowled. ‘His opinion of you hasn’t changed, Neville. Trying to make him see you the way you see him will get you killed.’

 _And how do **you** see me, Draco?_ Neville wanted to ask but there were more important things to say. ‘That isn’t why I’m doing this. My family, friends, me, and you—those are the reasons I crept about putting slogans on walls and told the Carrows where to get off. Why I don’t stay in my hidey-hole, or yours.’ Neville couldn’t resist the suggestive whisper. Draco clearly appreciated it, shaking his head in a “You pervert!” kind of way before kissing Neville on the mouth.

‘Remember in Umbridge’s office, _against the window_?’ Draco asked after they kissed a lot more.

‘M-hm.’

‘Remember saying yes?’

‘Yes,’ Neville replied with a slight hiss.

‘Is this window okay?’

Consent was granted with a nod, a kiss, and a series of concealment charms.

‘Isn’t disillusionment supposed to occur **after** sex?’ Draco asked as they lost sight of each other. Neville could hear his smile. He closed his eyes and it was like the nights in his bed, in the dark. Instinct took over and they did everything by feel.

He was a lot taller than Draco since the Fifth Year proposition when he’d been sure Draco would fit perfectly behind him while pressing him against the glass. Switching partway through and hoisting Draco onto his hips made things more comfortable on a physical level. It would have been positively wonderful if their emotional connection didn’t become increasingly fragile with every thrust and grunt. They couldn’t bring themselves to speak or kiss goodbye afterward. Neville didn’t read anything into it. Hell was approaching. They were scared. Disappointing sex was the least of their problems.

*~~~*

The Dark Mark hadn’t stopped burning. The degree and patterns varied minute-to-minute but Draco refused to answer any summons. Snape sought him out before breakfast and commanded him not to return to the Dark Lord’s side ‘under **any circumstance** , is that clear? I will kill you myself before putting your parents through that.’

‘Truly feeling the god-fatherly love, thanks Severus.’

Snape’s sneer had a curl of amusement at one corner. He briefly, only after an agonising hesitation, put a hand on Draco’s shoulder then floated away in a billow of cloak. That fond farewell meant Draco would not be killed on sight but tortured first while his wandless parents watched. Death and degradation were inevitable. Perhaps he could shave a piece off the Dark Lord first.

‘Professor McGonagall,’ Draco called. She clearly hadn’t noticed that he’d stayed behind when the Hufflepuffs and other Slytherins left her classroom. He wasn’t sure his confidence could withstand her piercing stare much longer so hurried on with what he needed to say. ‘What do you know about horcruxes?’

Professor McGonagall locked potential eavesdroppers out of the room with a snap of her wand, despite looking ready to vomit or faint to the floor. Terror solidified in Draco’s heart, pulverising his feeble hope that the things were merely a literary device. ‘I don’t intend to make one,’ he hastened to reassure the one teacher determined to treat him like any other student. ‘But I think I know someone who has, someone who doesn’t deserve to live forever.’

‘Draco, please,’ McGonagall took a small step toward him with each word. ‘You must avoid so much as **thinking** about confronting this person.’

Her concern pissed him off. ‘Why, because I’m not Saint Potter?’ he spat angrily.

‘Potter’s parents and godfather are all dead! His Muggle family showed him all the affection yours would bestow upon a talking dog turd. Those closest to him are in hiding in one form or another. I doubt even Potter wants to be Harry Potter!’

‘None of that matters if this person made another Horcrux during the holiday!’

‘Another?’ McGonagall stumbled backward with a hand on her heart.

‘There are three things I need to know about horcruxes before choosing whether to act or not: how to identify them; how to destroy them; and can they be living things? I could have gotten Longbottom to ask and spared myself all this other bollocks but I’d rather keep that particular term out of his vocabulary.’

McGonagall’s expression softened. ‘I know you care for…’

‘No, you **think** I care. There aren’t many places a goody-two-shoe dullard like Longbottom would hear the word horcrux. Knowing my luck, Nott would be the one punished for letting it slip.’

Mentioning Nott directly after insulting Longbottom guaranteed McGonagall felt like a pawn in Draco’s game. She witnessed the argument between the two Slytherins after the Yule Ball, knew about the attempted kiss that started it. Her spine and jaw tightened in tangible distaste. Draco played this move too soon. He would have to get the necessary information from elsewhere.

He also had to convince Longbottom that everything that passed between them meant nothing. He was not looking forward to it but it had to be done before either of them could be brought before He Who Must Not Be Maimed. Longbottom hated him before and they both got over it. They’d find their way back if the Dark Fraud fell—hopefully.

*~~~*

Neville saw that Draco wasn’t alone in the astronomy tower. Blaise Zabini was wrapped around him.

‘Told you that moron would accept anything you fed him.’ Zabini barely stopped snogging Draco to talk.

‘You also said he’d he offer information for the privilege.’

‘I can’t believe you let it go on so long, those grubby hands and his disgusting Muggle-loving mouth all over you.’

‘It would have been worth the sacrifice if that buffoon had anything valuable to contribute. Potter clearly thinks he’s as stupid and useless as we do.’

Neville backed away before they began to laugh at his naivety. The sound followed him down the stairs regardless. His thoughts flipped like a coin. Malfoy had played him like a golden snitch. Perhaps the scene with Zabini had been the act. Draco knew Neville would be walking along that corridor so he wanted him to see this performance and support the spy theory if they were captured – or discover the truth in the most callous manner possible. That seemed more typical of Draco Malfoy. Neville recalled his warning before they first kissed beside that same window: “I will use, betray, and destroy you—anything to be free.” He should have known then it was all a charade.

*~~~*

One H word had been spotted in Ravenclaw tower, probably looking for the other. Draco made preparations to search for both as the students of Slytherin House were escorted to a passage out of Hogwarts.

‘You can’t trust Crabbe or Goyle. They intend to hand you over to the Dark Lord once you cock up!’ Nott told him in an angry whisper. ‘If you do succeed in finding it then they will take it off you **before** handing you over. Either way Draco, you’re dead. McGonagall’s given us a free ticket to safety. We don’t have to get involved.’

‘That **thing** pretending to be one of us is holding my mother prisoner. Yours will be worrying in Hogsmeade, which is why I’m not convincing you to help.’

‘There’s nothing more to say then?’

Draco shook his head, concealed himself and stepped away from the other Slytherins. He signalled for Crabbe and Goyle to do the same. Knowledge of his opponents and instinct told him to wait by the room with the vanishing cabinet. Potter, Weasley and Granger proved him right.

*~~~*

Defending Hogwarts was exhilarating, invigorating, and gave all the agonising and degrading crap that happened before a purpose. This was the time of Neville’s life.

Imminent death and dismemberment aside…

*~~~*

Crabbe—dead, horcrux—destroyed, along with the hidden room and Mother’s wand. Being right about the Dark Fraud provided no consolation when every breath was despair and self-loathing, robbing him of the ability to perform rudimentary magic without a wand, possibly at all. Reduced to living like a Muggle, how _**ironic**_.

Everyone was an enemy. Bluffing his way past Death Eaters and Hogwarts defenders in search of a fallen wand, he’d settle for a Mudblood’s if it got him into the robed worm’s camp, so he could try to redeem himself by releasing his mother.

Draco crept past Dolohov and Lupin and plastered a gloating sneer in place when he saw Neville. Lupin had been losing. Draco couldn’t be true to his heart in case Dolohov overheard and killed Neville in front of him. ‘You didn’t actually believe I **liked** you did you Longbottom?’ he asked with as much acid as he could muster. ‘Six years of insults wasn’t enough to prove I find you detestable?’

‘That works both ways, ferret. The only surprising thing in all this is that you proved to be as gullible as you think I am.’ Neville’s nose almost touched Draco’s cheek as he leaned in with a leer. ‘Want to know who I thought about while fucking you to make it bearable? Can you guess? Starts with…’

Draco failed to feign apathy but he would not sink to brawling like a Muggle. ‘If I had a wand you’d be dead.’

‘If you had a wand you’d be mistaken for a wizard.’

The crunch of his elbow against Neville’s nose wasn’t satisfying enough. He’d mistaken this alleged beacon of integrity for a lover and refuge. Draco wanted to see the true Neville Longbottom and provoked him. ‘Come on then. I’m unarmed. Do your worst. Show me what kind of hero evolved from that fat squib who used to wet his pants at the sight of me!’

Neville raised his wand, face contorted by loathing. Draco’s arm burned and the Dark Lord’s sonorous voice granted a truce for one hour. Dolohov ran past them.

‘DO IT!’ Draco shouted.

Longbottom lowered his wand arm and turned his back. ‘You’re not worth it.’ The words held Draco in place as securely as an Immobilus charm.

It had all been for nothing.

*~~~*

Harry was dead, but then he wasn’t. Voldemort was the most powerful dark wizard, but then he wasn’t. Neville killed Voldemort’s snake like Harry said, **because** Harry said. Draco would no doubt make something of that.

No. No thinking like that. Neville had been in love with Draco, but now he wasn’t. Draco pretended to have a heart, but he didn’t. Kisses, tears, and words of comfort had all been fake. Neville had to focus on what was real.

*~~~*

Waiting around was stupid but Draco wasn’t ready to leave yet. Nor was he able to talk to Neville, which was the sole reason for waiting around. He had to know for certain if anything that happened this year was worth remembering, if they’d told each other similar lies and put on similar performances to protect each other, or if Neville truly had been lying back and thinking of Potter while Draco laid himself bare. Neville's speech to the Dark Lord certainly supported his cruelly delivered claim that everything had been about Potter.

Nothing hurt so much. Not the fading brand on his arm when it was active. Not the scar through his shoulder.

No…one thing, that this could be precisely how Neville felt seeing Draco with Blaise.

He had to stay.

*~~~*

The weight of Godric Gryffindor’s sword enabled Neville to swagger to the table where Draco and his parents sat. He addressed the Malfoys before Draco could react. ‘Narcissa, Lucius. You may have heard particularly vile rumours that Draco and I have been fucking throughout the year in an attempt to gain information from each other. For that to be true, we would have had to actually **talk** during sex.’ Neville glowered at Draco. ‘Or written political secrets on our…’

‘Why are you doing this?’ Draco hissed. His parents were like salt-and-pepper astonishment dispensers as they stared at him from either side.

‘It’s all over now, isn’t it? This is the only chance to tell you what a spineless, arrogant, nasty, and worthless creature you really are.’

‘Shame you couldn’t be bothered doing that **before** we played bareback. Merlin knows what diseases you gave me, Muggle-pox most likely.’

Neville let his face twist into a grimace of angry disgust to match Malfoy’s. He felt physically ill. ‘I hate you. Whatever curse brought us together, I’m glad it’s worn off.’ He turned away.

‘Wish I’d handed you over to Bellatrix now,’ Draco muttered behind him. ‘Jumped up, Mudblood loving, squib.’

‘Draco,’ Narcissa asked quietly as a chair scraped along the floor. ‘Draco,’ she repeated sternly.

Neville waited for a curse, hex, or soul-slicing insult to hit him in the back. When all he heard was the scrape of two more chairs he turned around. The Malfoys were leaving. Of course, they were all unarmed.

‘There was no need to attack him after you’d won,’ Narcissa scolded Neville as Lucius followed Draco out of the hall.

‘He hasn’t precisely made my life peach-fuzz and unicorns...’

Narcissa swiftly stepped forward. Her voice was colder than her reputation. ‘No-one’s life has been peach-fuzz and unicorns, you manipulative blood-traitor harlot.’

Without thinking, Neville grabbed Narcissa’s arm and snarled in her face. ‘Your precious boy used **me** , not the other way around.’

‘So why weren’t you brought before the Dark Lord?’ Narcissa replied as she calmly pulled her sleeve free and shook out the wrinkles. ‘Bella would have been very pleased to see you.’

‘I’m crap at Occlumency and Draco wouldn’t want auntie watching him star in my memory-porn, hearing the lustful lies he told me—knowing I loved him. Voldemort may have mistakenly assumed he loved me back.’

‘Is this why my son is almost in tears—overwhelming guilt at breaking your delicate heart?’ Narcissa asked snidely before walking away with sweeping, determined strides.

‘Perhaps he finally realised everyone he’s ever met hates him!’ Neville shouted as maliciously as possible at her retreating back.

Ginny, Luna, Lavender, Seamus and Dean crowded around to enquire after Neville’s mental stability or offer comfort, depending on the nature of their friendship. He told them all to piss off. The reckless way he waved the sword about caused it to disappear but his glare was enough to clear a path to Gryffindor tower. He stomped heavily up the stairs to the familiar dorm room, stared at the empty beds with his back to the closing door, sank onto the one he and Draco used to share, and cried.

* * *

####  Epilogue 

Scorpius rarely saw Father lose his temper to such an extreme and was tempted to cower in the sitting room’s largest armchair with a pile of cushions over his head. Mother was pleased with his OWL results but Father had a harpy in his hat over Scorpius’ intention to study herbology as part of his NEWT.

‘I don’t give a centaur’s foreskin how good you are at the stupid subject. Now it’s no longer compulsory…’

‘I Enjoy It! Professor Longbottom…’

‘Neville Longbottom is an utter cunt!’

‘Draco!’ Mother’s hands flew to cover her mouth so rapidly an index finger almost became lodged up her nose.

Scorpius privately admitted that hearing the word delivered so sharply from Father’s irate lips made it the Worst Profanity Ever. He was also slightly scared. Everyone at Hogwarts liked the herbology professor, which made Scorpius wonder why Father expected the teacher to hate him so much. ‘He seems nice enough.’

‘I went to school with him for seven years, believing his nice and innocent routine. It wasn’t until the final day, when war properly came to Hogwarts, that I learned the truth. Everyone knew I was a prick so don’t try using that against me.’

‘If I drop herbology then I won’t have enough subjects to achieve NEWT.’

‘So pick up niffler grooming or something. I don’t care what.’

Scorpius sat forward to protest.

‘Obey your father,’ Mother said quietly.

Scorpius nodded, replacing herbology with Muggle studies on his timetable. Mother shared Father’s anger at this choice and privately scolded Scorpius for deliberately being contentious.

‘I’ll do divination instead, **if** you tell me why…’

‘I know nothing beyond twenty-five year old rumours and I’m certainly not telling you those.’

Scorpius suspected Mother was lying but didn’t dare ask Father, Aunt Daphne, or his godfather Theodore Nott for details. He came to accept that he’d remain ignorant on this one subject—until he and his friends were caught selling stolen alcohol to Third Years behind the Shrieking Shack. The Slytherin sixth years were using a drinking game to keep tally of who sold the most, all in the name of quality control, and Scorpius had scored half a dozen port-jelly shots more than his closest rival.

‘It had to be you,’ Professor Longbottom said with an air of predestination as he gestured for Scorpius to follow his co-conspirators out of Hogsmeade.

Scorpius managed a cocky swagger rather than drunken stagger, turned back to smirk at their escort, and tripped over his own ankle in shock. That was some severe disapproval on Prof Longbot’s face.

‘You, Warrington,’ Longbottom sent a jinx at the dirt beside Isobel’s right shoe and the whole group jumped, ‘help him up.’

Scorpius shrugged Isobel’s hands away and glared at the professor. ‘Father was right about you, Cunt-bottom.’

His friends’ simultaneous step away was accompanied by a chorus of gasps. If looks could kill, the professor’s eyes would be shouting _Avada Kedavra!_ Scorpius tried not to scuttle backwards.

‘ **Your father** handed out threats and bribes like paedophiles offer lollipops. Every soul in that school feared or detested him, except me! ’ Professor Longbottom’s irate expression shifted as though a ghost twisted inside him before forcing its way out. ‘Report to Professor Vector for detention, all of you,’ he said bluntly. A flick of his wand sent the appropriate number of detention slips to the headmistress’s office as a tight formation of paper planes before he turned his back on the miscreants.

‘Sir,’ Scorpius called as he hurried to his feet, frantically smacking dust from his bum and following the professor. An underarm stinging jinx hit the toe of his sneaker to discourage pursuit and he had to hop all the way to the castle infirmary.

Professor Vector had dismissed the others by the time Scorpius reached her office and the portrait of Professor Snape spoke before Vector did more than offer Scorpius a seat. ‘I’ve notified your father. He will be along shortly.’

Scorpius cringed. He’d received numerous admonitions from Severus Snape’s companion portrait in Malfoy Manor. It had been a gift for Grandmother Cissy from Harry Potter. For Severus too, Scorpius supposed, since it allowed him to be surrounded by friends after death.

‘Severus and I will take it from here, Professor Vector,’ his predecessor Professor McGonagall insisted. ‘An issue between our former students needs to be resolved before dealing with this one.’

Scorpius leapt out of the chair. ‘I should come back later the…’ Scorpius gave up his escape attempt and sat. Mother and Father weren’t exaggerating. The stern pursing of McGonagall’s lips had to be seen to be believed.

‘Here’s one,’ Professor Dumbledore’s portrait announced while turning pages in a newspaper. Scorpius wondered why he would want to read the same articles every day until his painting was destroyed.

Father opened the door and flopped into the chair beside Scorpius. ‘You get into more trouble than Sirius Black! What have you done now?’

‘Extended my entrepreneurial skills and insulted a teacher.’

‘Which one?’

Scorpius picked at a torn fingernail instead of replying.

‘Are you serious? After the conversation we had in summer about specifically **not** provoking…? I’m sorely tempted to smack you up the head with that—whatever that humungous thing over there is.’ Father gestured vaguely at a wall full of hefty artefacts.

‘Sorry.’

‘Not good enough.’ Father stood and prepared to leave.

‘Where are you going?’

‘I warned you, boy. You’re on your own this time.’ Father suddenly assumed an attack stance. His raised wand didn’t waver, nor did his snarl.

Scorpius had never seen him like this. There was something frightening and hollow in his eyes that underscored his towering rage. Perhaps this was why parents of Scorpius’ friends wouldn’t let them come over if Father was home. Scorpius carefully turned his head to see what prompted such a change and tried to shrink into a corner of his chair. Professor Longbottom stood in the doorway. His posture and expression precisely mirrored Father’s. Scorpius timidly raised a hand. ‘May I go to the bathroom?’ He’d consumed a decent amount of alcohol earlier and feared he might wet his pants or vomit if the adults began duelling in front of him. Father granted permission to leave with an impatient wave of his left hand and the professor stepped aside without lowering his wand or diverting his hateful stare. If he was the only student who **hadn’t** hated Father, like he said, then Scorpius didn’t want to meet any that did.

He heard two adult voices bark over each other as he leapt down the first three stairs. ‘I trusted…’ and ‘…believed in you!’ Their identical tone held more meaning than the similar words.

Scorpius got it. From time to time Father’s eyes were visibly haunted by the same soul-eating hopelessness that could be heard in their voices. They’d loved each other, deeply by the sound of it, without knowing that love was returned. How dreadful. Burning curiosity replaced the urge to pee in terror so Scorpius waited beside the stone gargoyle at the bottom of the spiral staircase.

*~~~*

For twenty-five years he'd wondered what he should have done differently. _Is any of it worth remembering?_ But when the time came Neville couldn't put his request into words. Draco was the one who asked how much had been true.

'Everything,' Neville admitted. 'I thought we were making a difference, starting a brighter future while the darkness intensified around us, until you...'

'The Blaise charade?' Draco asked with an arid throat. Neville nodded. 'It never went beyond public snogging. Any time he tried for more I pretended my Dark Mark was burning and ran off. The Potter comment, was that sincere or something similar?'

Neville felt overwhelming relief and was surprised by how raw it all felt after a quarter century. Pain flared. 'Neither. I believed you used me and hated you more than anyone else with that stupid brand on their arm. I wanted to round up every Dementor and watch them kiss you like you kissed me. Destroying your ego was the closest substitute.'

'Now see, if you'd crossed the hall to tell me that instead of convincing my parents I'd been your sex slave for a year then my son wouldn't be in detention for calling you names.' Draco didn't provide an opportunity for Neville to argue back. 'Every corpse or wounded witch I passed could have been my mother, every wizard you. We were only in the stinking castle after Potter topped him so I could find the nerve to apologise and tell you the truth! Why should I be the one apologising to you when you hate me so fucking much you'd rather have some creature suck out my soul than believe I loved you?! Morgana's tits Longbottom!'

'Guess what Malfoy, hearing you and Blaise make a joke of every intimacy we shared was identical to being touched by a Dementor. It took the only joy and beauty I'd ever experienced first hand and...!' Neville waged silent war against his tears. 'I wasn't letting a piece of piss like you destroy me.' He touched Draco's arm firmly with one hand while gently stroking Draco's jaw with the other. 'I loved you,' Neville admitted softly. 'We both ruined any chance of a future together but we can restore some of the moments we shared to their former glory.'

'They should have been wonderful memories, the best instead of the worst.' Draco looked Neville in the eye, touched his face, rebuilt a bridge burned to cinders long ago. 'Would it have made a difference **then** if I'd told you I loved you instead of assuming you knew?'

'We would have found some way to interpret it as a monstrous lie. It actually means more that you're saying it now.' Neville kissed Draco light and slow on the mouth.

Draco accepted and returned the kiss. 'There's no chance of improving our window sex technique. I love my wife.'

'Me too, **my** wife.' They shared a softly sad smile. 'I loved you then Draco, with all my heart.' The mournfully whispered truth brought tears to grey eyes as well as brown. Neville recalled the last time they'd cried together. The memory must have been a powerful one for Draco too because he provided a deeply soothing embrace.

'I remember the warmth of your tears trailing down my back and the softness of your lips as you tried to erase them. It contradicted everything you said when we met during the battle and again after. I didn't know what was real. You were the purest and most treasured aspect of my life that year Neville. I'm so sorry for making you feel tarnished and cheap. I didn't know how else to protect you. I couldn't trust anyone enough to seek their advice, only you.'

An audible sob from the wall of portraits reminded them they weren't truly alone yet when they looked up every frame was blank. They shared one final restorative embrace and then sat to discuss the unfortunate third victim of their youthful mistakes - Scorpius. 

*~~~

It wasn’t long before the herbology professor came down the stairs. Apart from pink-rimmed eyes, he looked the same as he had during herbology lessons.

‘Sorry Sir,’ Scorpius said sincerely from the other side of the gargoyle. ‘I didn’t, um, know.’

‘That’s no excuse. Draco’s waiting for you. He’s not in the mood for lies.’

Scorpius hurried up the stairs. ‘Alright?’ he asked with concern. His father stopped inspecting the wall of humungous whatever they were.

‘I had to floo your mother since you face expulsion for your entrepreneurial skills.’ Disappointment may have replaced fury, but Father was still mad as he helped himself to Professor Vector’s brandy and the most comfortable visitor’s chair.

‘I meant, you know, the other thing. Professor Longbottom.’

‘Nothing warranted that level of profanity from you. From me, it was about twenty five years overdue, but **you** had no right. He faces disciplinary action for jinxing a student, which he won’t contest. Your godfather was right about his integrity.’

Scorpius noticed the quick, silent communication between Father and Snape’s portrait. ‘You’re never going to tell me the history behind this, are you?’ he asked.

‘No point. Lies can’t be untold, mistakes can’t be unmade…’

‘Love can’t be unloved,’ Scorpius interjected quietly. His father looked at him shrewdly.

‘True. Earnest apologies, explanations and forgiveness can be offered, hopefully they’re accepted.’ Not the subtlest hint Father had ever given. ‘To stop you asking again—or bothering anyone else about it—the darkest year of our lives wasn’t quite as horrid as we made it out to be. Important memories from that time became tainted by our mistakes, mostly mine, and now they’re clean again. Nothing else changes, the end. Welcome to adulthood, the greatest anticlimax in life. I’d offer you a sip of brandy to toast this moment but, you know, the other thing.’

Scorpius smiled because Father was willing to forgive him. Time proved him wrong about nothing else changing though because Scorpius never again saw that soul-eating hopelessness haunt his father’s eyes.


End file.
